


Hello, Sunshine

by shit_shippers_say



Series: Our Universe and then Some [4]
Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Chaptered, Eliott and Lucas are in the same year, Eliott is a hopeless romantic, Eliott still has BPD, Eventual Smut, F/M, I'm sorry this is so unnecessarily long, Lucas basically has undiagnosed depression, Lucas doesn't believe in monogamy, M/M, Mentions of Mental Illness, Rating May Change, Slow Burn, cute nicknames, heed individual chapter warnings, lol, mild panic attack description in chapter 3, rating heavily subject to change, season 3 rewrite if it took place after the events of all the other seasons, won't be too angsty probs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-04-12 06:59:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 30,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19126954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shit_shippers_say/pseuds/shit_shippers_say
Summary: Lucas and Eliott n°1 have found their happiness, they’ve fought their battles and cried their tears, but that still leaves an infinite number of universes yet to be explored. This is n°24.Eliott and Lucas are both third year lycée students who each have their struggles as out and proud queer teens. When Eliott transfers to lycée Dorian and the two cross paths in the most unlikely of ways, Lucas is left to question everything he thought he believed - everything he thought he stood for. It’s a battle he wasn’t prepared for, but at least he has a jacket to keep him warm.





	1. 18 JANUARY - 24 JANUARY 2020

**Author's Note:**

> ATTENTION: Please do not copy and paste my work onto another account! If you would like to have it where you can find it, and you do not have an AO3 account where you can bookmark it, please copy THE DIRECT LINK to my work and keep it where you can always reach it (i.e. in your notes app) or share it where you and other people can always find it! You DO NOT have my consent to repost any of my work, regardless of whether credit is given or not.
> 
> Once again, I ask you kindly to NOT REPOST MY WORK ANYWHERE. I have had this happen too often to my work, and I would prefer to not have to report anyone else for it.
> 
> Thank you, and I’m sorry for the long note. ❤️  
> -  
> ok i've been working on this fic since april and i truly do have to thank @iwantmessedup3000, @onlydeathwillpartusnow, and @unmecchelou on tumblr for reading this and telling me it wasn't as shit as i thought it was. their support is literally the only reason i was able to write this. <3

**LUNDI 09h56**

 

Lucas walks into school feeling as though there’s a ten pound weight on each of his shoulders. 

 

Sleep had been a bit elusive practically all of the holiday break and even now as he’s returning to school again, he feels like he could fall asleep at any moment. Whether the insomnia is because he feels guilty that his mother spent Christmas alone, or because he was basically in solitary for an entire month, is hard to say.

 

Most likely both.

 

Lucas can hear amble chatter from everyone around him and as he makes his way to his locker, he feels someone bump his shoulder. Too tired to really care, he mumbles a quiet ‘sorry,’ and opens his locker. His books and everything stayed there all throughout break because if he’s honest, work was the last thing on his mind. Well, no, he’s actually pretty sure there was fuck-all on his mind all of break, but he just couldn’t bring himself to  _ care _ anymore.

 

“Yo, Lucas,” Yann’s voice interrupts his thoughts - probably for the best, since he was just staring blearily at the contents of his locker - as the taller boy approaches him from the main doors. “What’s up, bro?”

 

Lucas turns, looks at his best friend and shrugs, leaning against the cool metal next to him. “Nothing, much. How was your break?” 

 

Yann makes a noncommittal face and watches as Lucas shuts his locker without taking out any of his stuff. 

 

Whatever, it’s the first day back, not like they’ll be doing much anyway. 

 

“Mostly just dinners with my family the whole time,” Yann sighs. “Arthur, Basile, and I went to the park a few times, but it wasn’t the same without you. The girls invited us all to a party, which was fun. Emma and I hung out.”

 

That gives Lucas pause, his hand hovering over the lock of his locker as he turns to raise a brow at his friend. Two years agothat little detail would have rubbed him the complete wrong way, jealousy that he couldn’t control rising in his throat, but now it just made him beam with pride.

 

“Yeah?” He asks his friend, snapping the lock closed and leaning back with his arms crossed. He’s smiling at Yann, who’s begun to blush a ridiculous shade of crimson.

 

“Yeah, yeah.” Yann says nonchalantly, looking everywhere but at Lucas. “Went to the movies and whatever. It was fun.”

 

“Uh huh.” Lucas is smiling and nodding like a moron because his heart is tossed back all those months ago, when it was just the three of them most of the time. He, Emma, and Yann had the best times, now that he thinks back on them. In the moment, he admits, he wasn’t always focused on how much their friendships meant to him. Now though, he realizes how much he appreciated them constantly being there for him, and he fucked it up. Remembering that fact still makes Lucas’ stomach turn uncomfortably.

 

Shaking that guilt away, he raises a brow in a teasing manner up at Yann. “So? That’s it? ‘It was fun’?”

 

“Yep.” Yann says, a bit too quickly, changing the subject. “So, how’s your mom?”

 

Lucas’ smile drops, immediately, and he turns away to avoid his best friend’s gaze and start walking toward class. He opens his mouth to say ‘she’s good,’ but he can’t quite bring himself to utter the lie. So, instead, he says, “Where’s Arthur and Basile?”

 

“Hanging out with the girls in the foyer.” Yann jogs to catch up with the shorter boy and catches his elbow in his hand. “Hey,” He says, quietly, forcing Lucas to turn and look at him before he continues, “are you okay? What happened?”

 

Lucas suddenly can’t stop his lower lip from trembling, his head ducking away from Yann to shield the tears from his best friend.

 

It’s not that he hadn’t wanted to see his mother, he loves her so much, it was just that he wasn’t sure he would have been able to have been around her alone and not told her about his being gay. Sure, telling all of his friends had probably been the best thing he could have done for himself, but he just wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he disappointed his mother. She means everything to him - more than everything - and he can’t lose her. Not when it sometimes feels like he’s the only one she has left.

 

The next thing Lucas knows, he’s being pulled off to the side behind the staircase by Yann and hugged tightly to his best friend’s chest.

 

“Hey, it’s alright, Lucas, it’s alright.” Yann is saying. “Don’t cry, it’s alright.”

 

Lucas hadn’t even realized he was crying until Yann said that, but those are definitely tears running down his cheeks. He registers that his shoulders are shaking and he’s making small sounds that could be equated to whimpers, but he can’t find the strength to stop them. The lack of sleep and the guilt managed to hit him like a truck, all at once, and he can’t bare to lift his head to look at Yann. His hands clutch tightly to the front of Yann’s puffy winter coat and he muffles his sobs against the material.

 

The hallway is empty, Lucas can tell by the absence of chatter and footsteps, but Yann stays there for as long as it takes Lucas to calm down. 

 

The taller lets his best friend cry against his chest, without saying much more than ‘it’s okay,’ even though it makes his heart clench with sorrow in his chest.

 

When Lucas finally finds his voice, it’s rough and shaky and makes Yann’s arms tighten around him.

 

“I couldn’t do it.” Lucas says, without lifting his head. “I couldn’t bring myself to see her. I sat at the colloc, alone, all of break, like the terrible fucking son I am.”

 

Yann pushes at Lucas’ shoulders to force the boy to look at him. He fixes his best friend with a stern look. “Don’t ever say that. It’s okay to not feel strong enough to see her. It’s okay to take care of yourself, Lucas.” He says, hands tight on Lucas’ shoulders. When the shorter boy’s eyes well up with tears again, Yann’s voice becomes strained around the lump the sight forms in his throat. “I mean, I would suggest you call her, but you are  _ not _ a terrible son. You never could be and she would never think that of you. You know that. Okay?” When Lucas just looks away, biting his lips against the tears that have started to flow, again, Yann shakes his shoulders slightly and repeats, “Okay?”

 

Lucas lets out a shaky breath and nods, reaching up to wipe his face. “Okay…” He says, weakly, before clearing his throat and repeating, “Okay.”

 

Yann squeezes Lucas’ shoulder in reassurance and pulls him into another, long hug. This time, Lucas returns it, burying his face in Yann’s shoulder and sniffling.

 

Yann presses a soft kiss to his shoulder, like he did that day in the foyer, and pulls back to look at Lucas. “It’s gonna be okay, Lulu.”

 

Lucas nods, weakly, and uses the back of his hand to wipe the remaining tears from his eyes.

 

“Do you want me to stay with you?” Yann asks, gently, already knowing that Lucas probably won’t be going right to class.

 

Lucas just shakes his head and sighs. “No, it’s okay. I’ll go to the foyer, or something. I’m sure it’ll be empty.”

 

Yann nods in understanding, getting the message that Lucas really just wants to be alone at the moment. “Okay.” He says, patting his best friend’s shoulder. “I’ll see you at lunch, okay?”

 

Lucas just nods and watches Yann walk away. He closes his eyes and sighs, heavily, to himself before heading in the direction of the common room.

 

**LUNDI 10h08**

 

The foyer is empty, as Lucas had suspected, and he finds a spot on the soft leather couch that is settled in the center of the room. The cushions nearly swallow him, but he welcomes the plushness underneath him. Leaning his head back against the cushion behind him, he shuts his eyes against the gentle sunlight coming in through the wall of windows.

 

Maybe it’s because he’s been crying - or because he hasn’t slept more than ten hours in the last week - he’s not sure, but whatever it is has Lucas falling asleep within a minute of his eyes drifting shut.

 

**LUNDI 10h50**

 

Lucas isn’t expecting to wake up to the sound of the foyer door slamming shut, but he does and he can’t stop his body’s visceral reaction to jump nearly a foot in the air when he does.

 

“Sorry!” Someone says from the doorway, followed by their companion’s little giggle.

 

When Lucas blinks the sleep away from his eyes, he looks up to find Daphy and Bas standing in the doorway, fingers laced together and faces flushed pink. They’ve obviously snuck away to makeout in the supply closet of the common room, and Lucas is a hundred percent  _ not  _ surprised. Even though the principal told them to get rid of the futon, it’s fairly obvious that did not happen, and now it’s an unspoken hiding spot for the fourth year’s top couples to sneak away and mess around. He can’t say he’s jealous, but… he also won’t deny that he feels a little deprived of that kind of breathtaking and ridiculously teenage experience.

 

“Uh, we’re just gonna -” Bas says when Lucas doesn’t respond, inching his way toward the closet door, his hand still tangled with Daphné’s. 

 

“Right.” Lucas says, numbly, laying back down on the couch. “Sure, whatever.”

 

Daphné lets out a sound of concern, stalling her steps to look at Lucas.

 

“Are you okay, Lucas?” She asks, her voice soft as ever. “You seem upset.” Basile has stopped to look at his friend and, from the change of expression on his face, he agrees with his girlfriend. Lucas almost wants to smile at them, touched by their concern. the corners of his mouth even twitching just the slightest bit. His shoulders shrug of their own accord as he settles back into his original position, with his head pillowed on the arm of the sofa. 

 

“Yeah, I’m alright.” He says, quietly, closing his eyes again. “Just tired.”

 

Daphné presses her mouth in a firm line, like she wants to push, but Basile squeezes her hand gently. She looks over at her boyfriend who gives her a look that conveys it may be best to leave the shorter boy be, for now. She nods, hesitantly, and looks back at Lucas, whose eyes are still shut.

 

“Okay, well, hope you feel better.” She chirps, trying to sound normal.

 

Lucas doesn’t even have to be looking at her to know she’s still concerned for him. It warms his heart, a little. His friends have really become closer to family over the last year, and he’s endlessly grateful for that.

 

He just smirks and rolls over to face away from them. “Just don’t be too loud. I’m trying to sleep.” He can hear the two laugh and shuffle before the closet door shuts behind them. 

 

After that, he doesn’t hear anything else, but that could be because he falls right back to sleep.

 

**MARDI 03h23**

 

Lucas has to be up in less than four hours, but his stupid brain is working double time.

 

He’d slept maybe an extra hour in the common room, until a teacher had found him and escorted him to class. It wasn’t so bad though, he felt a bit better.

 

At lunch, he’d started to crash again. He got some concerned looks from the Gang and the Crew, but Yann stayed quiet and the others just didn’t ask, knowing he’d brush off their questioning.

 

When he arrived back at the colloc, he had gone straight to his bedroom and locked the door. Ever since Manon moved across the hall, Lucas has been able to sleep in his own room again. Upon her leaving, Manon even made a comment about how he’ll be able to sleep better now that he has an actual bed, even though he’s told her a million times that it has nothing to do with the sofabed, which is actually more comfortable than one may think. Either way, Lucas is tossing and turning just as much as he would be if he were laying on the ground.

 

He had eaten something small, considering his appetite has been diminishing along with his sleep schedule, and headed off to bed around 20:30. Mika had checked on him, once, before leaving for his night shift, but Lucas just gave him a dry look.

 

“I’m not a child,” He’d said, “I can take care of myself.”

 

Mika had looked hurt, but Lucas’ irritability has been rampant since his flatmates came back from their holidays. It’s becoming something they’re all just used to and Lucas hates it.

 

Now, as Lucas lays in bed with his eyes wide open and staring up at the ceiling of his bedroom, he can’t seem to shake the feeling of guilt that is weighing so heavily over him.

 

He thinks of calling his mom, but perhaps 03:30 in the morning isn’t the best time to give one’s mother a ‘just checking in’ call, so he settles for wallowing in the guilt for another two hours.

 

**MARDI 06h54**

 

When he finally falls asleep, Lucas can see the sun barely kissing the horizon outside his window. He knows his alarm is about to start blaring and tries to mentally prepare, but sleep is far more attractive to his brain, and he gives in.

 

**MERCREDI 13h34**

 

The week is passing slowly, with little to no events of interest. Even as Lucas sits here, in the common room, surrounded by the boys and girls, he can’t find it in himself to be interested in anything they’re discussing.

 

“So, how’s Sofiane?” Manon is saying off somewhere to his right. Sofiane, he recognizes as Imane’s new boyfriend and, from what he can tell, they are sickeningly adorable. He’s ridiculously happy for her, and finds it so cute that she blushes any time someone even so much as mentions the boy’s name. Much like she’s doing now.

 

“Fine.” Imane says, smiling like an idiot. “He’s fine. He, my brother, and their best friend just came back from visiting Australia.”

 

“That sounds so cool!” Daphné practically yells, sitting up excitedly on her knees, next to the rest of the girls on the couch. The boys have found seats on the floor, spread out in various positions.

 

“Yeah,” Arthur says, sitting up on his elbows, from where he’s lounging on the carpet, “what were they doing in Australia?”

 

“Sofiane studied there last year,” Imane ellaborates, “he wanted to go back so badly and my brother and their friend had never been before, so they all decided to make a trip of it, for the holidays.”

 

“Wait, I thought you said that that guy they’re friends with was our age?” Emma asks from where she’s leaning her head on Alexia’s shoulder. “How come he’s friends with people that are older than us?”

 

Imane rolls her eyes. “He’s allowed to have friends who are older than him.” She says, chuckling a bit. “Plus, they were all in the L program together, in their old school. The guy transferred, though, since Sofiane and Idriss graduated. He said it was because he hated the L program at that school, but Sofiane thinks it’s because he can’t make any new friends.”

 

“That’s depressing.” Lucas says, hunched against the wall.

 

“Oh, he lives.” Yann says from his place at the arm of the couch.

 

“Nice of you to join us.” Basile adds from where his head is pillowed on Daphné’s thigh.

 

Lucas just rolls his eyes at them. 

 

“Why wouldn’t he be able to make any friends?” Emma asks, confused.

 

Imane just gives a little half smile, and shrugs her shoulders, as if that answers the question.

 

“Where did he transfer to?” Daphné asks, changing the subject.

 

“Here, actually.” Imane says. “He started on Monday.”

 

“What?” Yann says, giving her an incredulous look. “And you haven’t invited him to hang out with us? You just said he couldn’t make any friends!”

 

Imane gives a soft look, as though she knows something they don’t. “He’s shy. I didn’t want to overwhelm him in his first week.”

 

Arthur scoffs, “You should invite him to the foyer party on Friday! I’m sure we would all love to get to know him.”

 

Imane seems to think about this, for a moment. “Yeah, I can ask him, why not?”

 

The conversation steers into a different direction, after that, but Lucas can’t quite get the thought of this random guy, who just transferred schools in the middle of his last year because he felt he couldn’t make friends, out of his mind. Seems a bit pathetic, honestly. And, now, they’ve invited him to a party? If he even shows up, who’s to say the guy won’t go running for the hills? This friend group is amazing, but even Lucas can admit they’re all a little overbearing, at times.

 

“Lucas, you down for video games at Basile’s later?” Yann asks.

 

His attention to that thought, and any other thoughts of Imane’s boyfriend’s best friend, is tossed out the window along with it his will to care about anything else they discuss that day.

 

**VENDREDI 14h26**

 

Lucas walked out of his last class only to be immediately ambushed by the boys, who pull him into stride with them as they exit the school and head down the street. They’re going on about the party later, even though it’s not going to be nearly as fun as the first one. Since that disaster, the principal has tightened after hours security and they  _ technically _ only got permission to be there after school for a ‘social.’ Arthur mentions alcohol at some point, and Basile practically has a fit.

 

“No way, dude!” The curly-haired boy says, with finality. “Daphné will  _ kill me _ if you show up with booze. Absolutely not.”

 

Arthur huffs. “We can at least smoke one before we go, right?”

 

Basile thinks for a moment, and nods. “Yeah, sure, I don’t see why not.”

 

Lucas wants to scoff. The girls specifically told them, no booze or drugs of  _ any kind _ , even if they do it before. He’ll let them figure that out later, though, when they all walk into the foyer, high as hell.

 

“Cool,” Yann says, bobbing his head, “so let’s meet at Arthur’s to smoke at, say, 18:00, then we can head to the foyer at like 19:00. Sound good to everyone?”

 

Basile and Arthur both nod, and Lucas shrugs, peeling off from the group to stand by the bus stop. The others roundup and stop in front of him.

 

“I think I’ll just meet you at the foyer, if that’s cool.” Lucas says, tiredly. “I should probably call my mom, maybe get some work done before going out.” He takes in their confused expressions and shrugs, again, looking away. “I also don’t really feel like getting high, tonight.”

 

Yann gives him a sympathetic look and nods. “Sure, man. Whatever you want to do.”

 

“Yeah, no worries.” Arthur says and hugs Lucas goodbye, followed by Yann and Bas. 

 

“We’ll see you later, though!” Basile says, excitedly, as the three start to walk away. “It’s gonna be dope.”

 

Lucas chuckles and waves them off. He finds that hard to believe, but he doesn’t think any of the squad will mind. They all manage to have plenty of fun whenever they’re together, even without the aid of alcohol or weed.

 

Once the boys disappear around the corner, Lucas makes his way over to the bench at the bus stop and sits down, pulling his phone from his pocket and opening up Instagram.

 

There’s a few stories from the girls, who are clearing the floor in the foyer for their party tonight, as well as a suspicious looking Alexia, saying something about how it ‘may be a soiree you won’t soon forget.’ He’s pretty sure they’ve pulled off another one of their hair-brained schemes to get around the rules, if Emma’s sly look over Alexia’s shoulder is anything to go by, and it makes him smile.

 

He’s about to respond to the story when a text from his father pops up on the top of his screen.

 

**From: Papa**

_ 14:28 _

I hope you have a good explanation as to 

why you couldn’t at least call your mother 

for Christmas.

 

**From: Papa**

_ 14:29 _

I’m very disappointed, Lucas.

 

Lucas feels anger well in his chest and begins to type out a response.

  
  


**To: Papa**

 

iMessage : you can’t be serious? and

what did you do for christmas? go to

dinner with your new, perfect family?

  
  


Lucas backspaces the whole thing and closes his eyes, willing the anger to go away. He knows, in his heart, that not being able to face his mother was awful, but nothing will compare to his father’s horrific way of dealing with her illness. Lucas may have gotten too overwhelmed and had to step away for a moment, but his father up and left her with no one but her son and her therapist. In Lucas’ mind, his father is the coward, not him, and it doesn’t matter if his dad agrees or not.

 

**To: Papa**

_ 14:30 _

sorry. i’ll call her later.

 

He mutes the chat, after hitting send, and sighs as he slides his phone away.

 

“Excuse me, but can I sit here?”

 

He wants to say ‘no, fuck off,’ but he won’t. It’s not this stranger’s fault that his father is a prick. 

 

Lucas’ gaze shifts up and his heart stops, anger and annoyance completely dissipating into awe. His attention slides up to meet the gaze of one of the most beautiful boys he’s probably ever laid eyes on.

 

He has messy brown hair and eyebrows that tilt upward in question. His eyes are the deepest and most captivating shade of blue-green Lucas has ever seen, and they feel as though they bore into his very soul. Shifting his gaze, Lucas can see he’s wearing mostly black - a black sweatshirt, ripped black skinny jeans that are rolled up at the ankles, and black running sneakers - all topped with a light brown canvas jacket. Before he can be caught staring too long, Lucas nods.

 

“Yeah, sure. Go ahead.” He moves his backpack from the seat next to him and watches as the boy sits down.

 

The guy looks at him and offers an appreciative smile. “Thanks.” He says and, fuck, if his voice isn’t like caramel, melting over Lucas’ heart. Jesus.

 

“No problem.” Lucas says, numbly. His pulse is practically pounding in his ears and, seriously, the guy’s eyes are  _ so blue _ .

 

Just as Lucas can feel himself getting lost in those endless pools of sparkling azzure, he registers that the guy next to him says something, but he can’t tear his attention away from his eyes long enough to comprehend it.

 

“ _ Pardon _ , what was that?” Lucas asks, shaking himself out of it. He really needs to get it together, he can’t just let himself become putty for every pretty boy that appears within twenty feet of him.

 

“I said,” The boy laughs, leaning a little closer, and -  _ putain _ \- smirking, “the bus seems to be a little late today.”

 

Lucas blushes and leans away, slightly, to check the time on his phone. It’s fast-approaching 14:55 and the bus was supposed to be there at 14:30.

 

“Huh. I guess it is.” Lucas frowns down at his phone before looking back up at the boy. He catches the tailend of a look he can’t quite place, but he brushes it off when the guy looks down the road.

 

“No sign of it, yet.” He says, observantly. “I’ll give it until 15:00, then I’m just going to start walking.”

 

Lucas laughs, softly and leans back in his seat. “Or you could just go to another stop and catch a different bus.”

 

“Yeah,” The boy says, turning to give Lucas a playful smile, “but where would the fun be in that?” He winks - fucking  _ winks _ \- and leans his head in his hand, resting his elbow on his knee.

 

Lucas swallows and lets out a small noise, that he covers up with a cough. He will  _ not _ let this random pretty boy reduce him to such a mess. No way. “Um, I know a really good pizza place.” Damn it, why would he say  _ that _ ?

 

The guy raises his eyebrows at him and smiles. “Oh, do you?”

 

“Yeah,” Lucas continues, despite his brain screaming ‘STOP,’ “it’s not too far from here, if you’d care to join me? You know, since the bus forgot about us.” He gives the boy a playful grin right back and receives a little chuckle in response. It’s like music to Lucas’ ears. Fuck, that’s  _ enough _ , cut it out.

 

“Sure.” The boy says. “I’d like that… uh…?” He trails off, hoping to catch Lucas’ name.

 

“Ah, I’m Lucas.” He clarifies, holding out a hand and immediately regretting it. A  _ handshake _ ? The boys would be so disappointed in his game, right now. He should be cool as anything and, yet, here he is stammering and floundering like an idiot.

 

“Lucas.” The boy says, feeling the syllables on his tongue, and reaching out to shake Lucas’ hand. “Nice to meet you.” His gaze turns almost heated as he tilts his chin down and grips Lucas’ fingers just a fraction tighter. 

 

Christ, this boy has game. Too much game.

 

Lucas tries to build his fortress against those pretty eyes up, just a little more, as the boy speaks again,

 

“ _ Moi c’est Eliott _ .”

 

Eliott. Fuck, for some reason, Lucas’ heart leaps hearing his name for the first time.  _ Eliott _ . 

 

“Well,  _ enchanté _ ,” Lucas says, voice low, trying his best to school his expression into something just as dark and heated as the other’s. He’ll be damned if he’s going to lose this battle. He says the next word as if it drips off his tongue, like molten honey into a cup of tea. “ _ Eliott _ .”

 

He can see Eliott’s breath catch before the taller boy is able to compose himself. A sly smirk settles on Lucas’ features, pride welling in his chest. He won this round.

 

They release each other’s hands and Eliott turns to check down the street again. When he doesn’t see the bus, he glances down at his phone, then back up at Lucas.

 

“So, pizza, huh?” The tall boy says, standing up again, and motioning for Lucas to follow.

 

Lucas smiles, a bit of challenge behind it, and stands up, as well.

 

“ _ Ouais _ , pizza.”

 

**VENDREDI 17h34**

 

Lucas has made several observations over the last three hours.

 

Firstly, Eliott’s a bit of a cocky bastard. He’s constantly taking every opportunity to make Lucas blush. Whether that means knocking their toes together under the table, or staring at Lucas with the intensity of a thousand suns, it works nearly a hundred percent of the time. That’s fine though, because two can play at that game and Lucas made sure that their hands brushed once the food arrived, and that he stared at Eliott’s mouth at least twice. Needless to say, they’re both pretty good at making each other blush. 

 

Secondly, the flirting has escalated to a level of competition that neither of them seem to be in control of. He’s even pretty sure, at one point, Eliott compliments Lucas’  _ elbows _ . It’s getting pretty intense. Lucas isn’t even sure of the score, anymore, it’s just become a vicious back and forth of heated stares and brushing fingers. 

 

Lastly, he knows Eliott’s pizza order is two margarita slices with a vanilla coke. Lucas’ not sure why he clings to this information, but he stores it away for later, mentally facepalming at his lack of self control.

 

“No, I swear!” Lucas is saying between fits of laughter. Their food has long since been finished and the coke bottles sit empty on the granite table top. Eliott is laughing, raspy and light, which makes sense considering Lucas has been smelling cigarettes on him since he walked up to the bus stop. Lucas composes himself enough to continue, “The guy spit the food out  _ everywhere _ ! It was disgusting!”

 

Eliott has to cover his mouth to muffle his hysterics, tears welling in the corners of his eyes. “Stop, stop! I can’t breathe!”

 

Lucas lets out a deep, belly laugh that would have him blushing in embarrassment if Eliott weren’t practically  _ snorting _ . God, it’s adorable.

 

When their laughter subsides, all of the other patrons of the restaurant staring at them with mixed looks of annoyance and confusion, Lucas lets a small smile settle on his features as he looks over at the boy across from him.

 

Eliott smiles back, picking up his leg to rest his foot on the bar beneath his seat, his knee barely peeking above the edge of the table. He looks like he’s about to say something when Lucas’ phone vibrates loudly on the table.

 

Lucas’ smile falls away, slowly, as he picks up his phone and is brought back down to Earth.

 

_ ChatBitte _

 

**From: Basile**

_ 17:37 _

who’s ready to fucking PARTYYYY???

 

Attached is a gif of a flock of birds flying in irregular patterns with strobe lights and sunglasses photoshopped in.

 

Lucas would normally laugh, but he really wants anything but to go to this stupid party tonight, so he just sighs and turns his phone on silent.

 

“Something wrong?” Eliott asks. His smile as drifted into a look of gentle concern and Lucas shrugs.

 

“I’m supposed to be going to a party tonight, but I honestly could think of so many other things I’d rather be doing.” He says, rubbing at his tired eyes. “Like sleeping.”

 

Eliott gives him a sympathetic look and glances at the little clock on the wall before he speaks, as though something is dawning on him. “When’s the party?”

 

“19:00.” Lucas says, raising a brow. “Why?”

 

Eliott gets this brilliant smile on his face - seriously, it could brighten up even the darkest of rooms - and sits forward in his chair. “I was invited to some stupid party later tonight, too. Why don’t we just… not go? Walk around. Claim we lost track of time.”

 

Lucas narrows his eyes at the boy. He’s all for getting food in a public setting, but walking around the streets of Paris, alone, at night, with some random guy he just met? Maybe not.

 

“I don’t know.” Lucas says. “I could just tell my friends that I got sick and go home. You know, go to sleep, like I want to.” He says it like it’s obvious, hoping Eliott will drop it.

 

Eliott seems to pick up on Lucas’ apprehensiveness and holds up his hands. “I wasn’t trying to force you into anything. I was just suggesting we go walk around the park or something. I’m sorry.” He clarifies, searching Lucas’ eyes. There’s something in Eliott’s gaze - something like regret, but softer - and Lucas has to look away. Well, the park wouldn’t be so bad.

 

“The park actually sounds nice.” Lucas says, trying to get Eliott to  _ stop _ looking at him like that.

 

Eliott grins and stands up from his chair, holding a hand out to Lucas. “Well come on, then.”

 

Lucas stares at his hand a moment before letting out a little laugh and taking hold of it, only to be pulled onto his feet and toward the door.

 

The man holding the glass door for them gives them an odd look, but Lucas just dramatically turns his nose up at the old geezer and follows Eliott, who’s laughing like a fool, out the door.

 

**VENDREDI 19h23**

 

The park had been a good distance away from the pizza place, so it had taken a little while to get there. Now, it’s been almost an hour of just aimless walking and talking. It’s… nice.

 

The air is crisp, wind blowing gently every now and then, and Lucas shudders a bit, pulling his thin bomber jacket tighter around him.

 

The park is close to empty, save for the random smattering of teenagers drinking and laughing. The water of the lake is so still, it almost looks as though it could be glass. There’s distant sounds of parties and boisterous yelling, but Lucas and Eliott’s little bubble remains untouched of any noise. They’ve spent hours wandering and talking about nothing and everything - the concept of black holes even came up, at one point, and Eliott’s face lit up. Lucas can now add ‘space nerd’ to the reasons he finds this ridiculous boy so endearing.

 

“Are you cold?” Eliott asks, as they round the same weeping willow they’ve past seven times before. If nothing else, they’re at least getting their steps in for the day.

 

Lucas looks up at the taller boy next to him and shakes his head. “No, not really.” He lies, through his traitorously chattering teeth.

 

The taller boy laughs and sheds his bulky canvas jacket to hand it to Lucas. “Here.”

 

Lucas looks down at the jacket, and then back up at Eliott, before shaking his head. “No, you’ll get cold.”

 

“I’ll survive.” Eliott says, chuckling. “You, on the other hand, seem to be turning blue. Here, take it.”

 

Lucas is stubbornly unmoved for approximately fifteen more seconds before he takes the coat, gingerly, out of Eliott’s outstretched hand.

 

Putting it on feels like he’s being swallowed up in a warm blanket of  _ Eliott _ , which by all standards should sound very creepy, but it’s not. It’s comforting, and soft. He can feel the chill slowly leave his body as he shoves his hands in the pockets. The fingers of his left one brush against something that feels like paper and he draws it out, curiosity on his features.

 

“What’s this?” He asks, unfolding the little yellow post-it, awe etching across his features when he takes in the image before him. Initially, it looks just like any old mashup of squiggles and dots. However, as Lucas looks closer, it becomes apparent that it’s a cosmic cloud - a galaxy - surrounded by stars and little tiny meteors flying through it. Before he can get a closer look, Eliott is taking the paper from his hands and shoving it in his jeans pocket.

 

“Sorry,” He murmurs, looking sheepish, “I forgot that was there.”

 

“What?” Lucas says, dumbly, still trying to process what he just saw. “No, no. Don’t be sorry, that was… did you draw that?”

 

Eliott blushes and shrugs his shoulders in response.

 

“Are you an artist?” Lucas asks, pressing on with excitement. “You’re really good, I’d love to see if you have anything else -”

 

“I’m not an artist.” Eliott says, quickly cutting Lucas off. “I just doodle in my free time, that’s all.”

 

“Oh,” Lucas deflates, sensing he may have crossed a line, “I’m… sorry. I didn’t mean to -”

 

“No, no.” Eliott says, his voice taking on it’s usual upward lilt, again. Like he’s trying to smooth the moment over. “It’s okay, I just… I’m not an artist. Really.”

 

“Okay,” Lucas concedes, “well, you should consider doing something a little more serious. That was very impressive for just a doodle.”

 

Eliott laughs, bumping his arm against Lucas’ as they continue walking. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

 

**VENDREDI 20h29**

 

They spend another hour just wandering and talking.

 

Feeling bad about the whole artist thing, Lucas confesses to Eliott that he plays piano in his free time, which he immediately regrets.

 

“Really?” Eliott sounds amused, turning to Lucas with a glint in his eye. “I’d love to hear you play sometime.”

 

“I don’t…” Lucas pauses, blushing deeply, “I don’t really like playing for people. My friends don’t even know I play.”

 

“Why not?” Eliott asks, curiously. “That seems like a pretty impressive talent.”

 

“Oh, like art?” Lucas can’t help but fire back, playfully.

 

Eliott laughs and holds his hands up in defeat. “Okay, okay, point taken.” He says as they approach the crossroads at the edge of the park.

 

The sounds of traffic coming from the busy Parisian streets, begin to dissolve the bubble around them and Eliott pauses when he notices Lucas turning in the opposite direction he is. They hold each other’s gazes for a long moment before Eliott speaks again, voice soft.

 

“I guess this is where we say good night.” He says.

 

Lucas stares up at him, feeling something well in his chest. Sadness? Relief? Anxiety? He isn’t really sure, but whatever it is makes him want to lean in just that slightest bit and -

 

A particularly loud car horn tears the two apart, and Lucas is thrown back into reality.

 

“Yeah,” He says, looking away from Eliott, and going to take the jacket off, “here’s your -”

 

“Keep it.” Eliott says, immediately. “You can’t walk home with just that little thing you had on before.”

 

“You’re only wearing a sweatshirt.” Lucas points out, but tugs the warm garment back over his shoulders.

 

“True, but I live right there.” Eliott nods toward a little apartment building just a few blocks down from where they’re standing, and gives Lucas a small wink. “I think I’ll be fine.”

 

Lucas stares at Eliott, unsure of what to say, when the taller boy reaches into his jeans pocket and pulls out the crumpled up doodle of a galaxy. He pulls a pen from his other pocket and scribbles something on the back of the post-it before handing it to Lucas.

 

“Here,” He says as Lucas reaches out, tentatively, to take the paper, “my number. Just in case you ever want to give my coat back.”

 

Lucas stares down at the digits, scratched onto the back of this pocket-sized masterpiece, and feels his mouth try to work, even though words won’t come.

 

“I -” he stops and looks up at the boy in front of him, only to find that Eliott is just smiling down at him fondly.

 

“Really,” The tall boy says in the softest tone that makes Lucas’ knees weak, “don’t hesitate.”

 

Lucas, ironically, hesitates before he answers, “Thanks.”  _ Real _ smooth.

 

Eliott just laughs and gives Lucas a small wave as he walks backwards in the direction of his apartment building.

 

“See you around, Lucas.”

 

His name dripping off of Eliott’s tongue makes Lucas want to fall into his arms and never leave. Instead, he responds with, “Goodbye, Eliott.”

 

He walks home, lighter than air, ignoring his phone buzzing every five seconds.

 

_ ChatBitte _

 

_ 19:13 _

**Basile** : yo, lucas, where you at ???

 

_ 19:39 _

**Arthur** : lucas, bro, you’re missing 

some crazy shit! the girls paid off the night 

guard and the whole school is here !

 

_ 20:24 _

**Basile** : hily shit, lucas, get yoyreu ass 

herr, shit’s carzy !!!

 

_ 20:39 _

**Arthur** : 1 Attachment Image

_ 20:41 _

**Arthur** : 1 Attachment Image

_ 20:42 _

**Arthur** : 1 Attachment Image

_ 20:44 _

**Arthur** : 1 Attachment Image

_ 20:45 _

**Arthur** : 1 Attachment Image

 

The images are just a series of pictures of Yann, Arthur, Basile, and the girls under black lights in the foyer that get progressively more and more messy as they go on.

 

Lucas pulls his phone out to check the texts as he enters the dark and silent colloc. He barely registers what they say before switching to Instagram and flicking through some of his friend’s stories. None of which are any more coherent than the pictures Arthur sent him.

 

His direct message notification pings, and it’s from Yann.

 

**y4z4s**

 

yo, dude, i see you online. where are you ?

 

Lucas’ fingers hover over the keyboard, ready to answer, before he decides against it and opens his contacts instead.

 

Hesitantly, he pulls the little post-it from the warm jacket pocket, and begins entering the short series of numbers on the back. 

 

First name : Eliott :)

 

Immediately, he backspaces the whole thing and hastily types something different.

  
First name : The Artist

 

 

* * *

Thank you [Bella](https://iwantmessedup3000.tumblr.com/) for betaing this and removing all of my unnecessary commas!

 

Check out my [Tumblr](hox-elu.tumblr.com/writing)!


	2. 25 JANUARY - 31 JANUARY 2020

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ATTENTION: Please do not copy and paste my work onto another account! If you would like to have it where you can find it, and you do not have an AO3 account where you can bookmark it, please copy THE DIRECT LINK to my work and keep it where you can always reach it (i.e. in your notes app) or share it where you and other people can always find it! You DO NOT have my consent to repost any of my work, regardless of whether credit is given or not.
> 
> Once again, I ask you kindly to NOT REPOST MY WORK ANYWHERE. I have had this happen too often to my work, and I would prefer to not have to report anyone else for it.
> 
> Thank you, and I’m sorry for the long note. ❤️

**SAMEDI 11h07**

 

Lucas wakes up to loud voices coming from the kitchen - not hostile, just some form of elated conversation - and he’s immediately regretful of even opening his eyes.

 

Aside from the voices in the kitchen, there’s sunlight and the sound of birds chirping coming in through the window and Lucas shoves his head under his pillow to block the assault on his ears. He feels cloudy with sleep and his body is subconsciously sinking deeper into his mattress, the warmth from his duvet enveloping him in an odd sense of comfort that he isn’t used to.

 

“Lucas!” Mika shouts from the hallway followed by loud, obnoxious banging on Lucas’ locked bedroom door. “Wake up, _mon chatuna_! We made breakfast!”

 

Lucas sighs heavily and throws his pillow at the door, causing a soft thump against the weak wood. “Go away, Mika!” He shouts back, before muttering a quiet ‘ _putain_ ,’ as he falls back against the sheets.

 

“You can’t stay in there all day, you know!” Manon’s voice comes, farther away than Mika’s. Lucas’ initial thought is that she came over upon smelling Mika’s cooking burn. This, unfortunately, would not be the first time this has happened.

 

“I can, and I might!” Lucas shouts back as he hears Mika’s retreating footsteps followed by hushed voices. He thinks he hears concern, but he can’t bring himself to care.

 

His phone buzzes next to him and he grabs it off of the edge of his desk. He forgot to plug it in before falling asleep, but that’s not out of the ordinary. There’s still 28% battery left, so he opens all of the unread messages blinking on his lock screen.

 

Pretty much all of his notifications are just texts and Instagram posts from his friends about the previous night’s party. Multiple texts are practically indistinguishable, thanks to Bas and Arthur’s incapability of texting beyond the point of three beers. Most of the messages from Yann are pretty coherent, and they all basically say ‘where are you?’ or ‘you doing okay?’ and that makes him smile just a little bit. Lucas should probably answer but he can’t really be bothered, at the moment, so he double taps the home button to clear his ‘recently used’ apps. As his finger goes to swipe up on the third app, Lucas stops.

 

**Contact**

 

First Name: The Artist

 

Lucas’ face breaks into an aggressive blush when all of the memories of last night come flooding back to him.

 

The way Eliott had sauntered up to the bus stop bench, the way he so easily agreed to ditch said bus for pizza, the way he’d shamelessly flirted and caused that same blush Lucas was sporting right now to dawn on his features. Lucas remembers the way Eliott had offered up his jacket to the shorter boy as the night turned colder, without question or second thought. He remembers the way the tall, mysterious boy had said ‘keep it’ when Lucas tried to give it back. Lucas chuckles quietly, remembering how that _smooth motherfucker_ had used that coat as an excuse to slip the other his number.

 

Without thinking, he opens up a chat and begins drafting a message.

 

 

**To: The Artist**

_11:07_

i’m not sure you’ll ever get this

jacket back. it’s very warm.

_11:07_

this is lucas, by the way.

 

 

He sends the last one hurriedly, deciding he should probably clarify that they know each other and he is not some random guy texting Eliott about his jacket.

 

Lucas takes a deep breath and sighs, already feeling the regret rising in his chest upon sending that boy any kind of message. Especially mere hours after just meeting him. He should have just left well enough alone, taken the free jacket and -

 

**From: The Artist**

_11:08_

i figured you’d say that ;)

_11:08_

that’s okay, you looked a lot

better in it than i ever did.

 

Lucas’ heart does a weird flip in his chest and he huffs a little laugh.

 

**To: The Artist**

_11:10_

i would beg to differ but…

nah, you’re right, i do look

better in it ;)

 

_11:12_

oh ho, well okay then. i

mean, i know i’m right, but

ouch.

 

_11:13_

don’t feel bad. you just

need to find the right

jacket for you.

 

_11:13_

oh yeah? do you think you

could help me with that?

 

_11:14_

maybe i could. but i’m not

too sure.

 

_11:14_

hm. i guess i could figure

it out on my own. but where

would be the fun in that?

 

_11:14_

where would be the fun in

me helping you?

 

_11:16_

i’d get to see you again.

 

 

Lucas’ heart jumps before he can stop it. He feels his face get hot as he types out a response, his fingers finding the keys almost off their own volition.

 

_11:20_

do you need an excuse to see

me again?

 

The response is immediate.

 

_11:20_

do you?

 

 

Lucas doesn’t want to get into that conversation. He’s not sure why this guy seems to be pinning him down as the ‘cat and mouse’ type, but all this chasing is going to give him a migraine. He wants straightforward answers. He wants a ‘yes’ or a ‘no,’ not this poetic bullshit. It’s never worked for him before, and it won’t start magically working now. So he changes the subject.

 

_11:22_

drawn anything new since

we talked?

_11:23_

tactful.

_11:23_

no, i haven’t.

_11:24_

played any piano, recently?

 

Lucas chuckles, softly, to himself. _Sly bastard_.

 

_11:25_

nothing gets past you.

_11:25_

now, you’ll never know.

 

_11:26_

what a shame. i was so looking

forward to your rendition of the

star wars theme :(

 

_11:27_

if that’s what impresses

you, then you’ll be eating your

words in no time, Mr. Artist.

 

_11:29_

‘Mr. Artist’? is that what you’ve

decided to call me?

 

_11:30_

what would you prefer? ‘Eliott’?

how boring.

 

_11:30_

my name is boring? you’re not

very good at complimenting me.

 

_11:32_

who said i was trying to

compliment you?

 

_11:35_

touché.

 

**SAMEDI 14h43**

 

_Ping_

 

Lucas picks up his phone and swiftly unlocks it, opening his message app and reading his newly received text.

 

Manon glances over from her spot at the table next to him and pushes her food around her nearly empty plate with her fork.

 

Lucas puts his phone face-down on the table and goes back to the pasta Manon and Mika prepared for lunch.

 

_Ping_

 

Lucas puts his fork down again and lifts his phone.

 

Mika looks up this time and raises an eyebrow. “What’s with all the notifications, today? Did you update your Grindr picture?”

 

Lucas stops typing and gives the other man a dry look. “Funny.” He says, humorlessly. “No I didn’t but, if I did, it’s none of your business.”

 

Mika puts his hands up in mock defeat. “Sorry I asked.”

 

Manon purses her lips as Lucas places his phone back on the table and goes back to his food once more.

 

_Ping_

 

Lucas picks up the phone again; no smile to offer this time.

 

_ChatBitte_

**From: Yann**

_14:44_

yo, lulu, you coming out with us?

 

“Lucas, maybe you could actually _eat_ your food?” Manon suggests with a deep sigh. “I’m sure whoever it is can wait while you do that.”

 

Lucas looks over at her and rolls his eyes. “It’s just the boys.” He tells half of the truth before going back to typing, almost mechanically, as he sends a hasty reply to the group chat.

 

_ChatBitte_

_14:45_

yeah, be there in a bit

 

“You’re not my mother, Manon,” the little brunet grumbles despite himself.

 

“It’s rude to have your phone out at the table,” she points out testily.

 

“It’s rude to act superior to someone who is the same age as you,” Lucas fires back, sliding his phone in his pocket and picking up his half-eaten plate of pasta, scraping it off into the trash. He rinses the dirty dish and puts it in the dishwasher before grabbing his coat and stuffing his feet into his Nikes by the door.

 

“Where are you going?” Lisa asks, walking in from her bedroom at the smell of food.

 

_Ping_

 

Lucas pulls his phone out and glances at it. A little smile dawns on his face before he offers a brief ‘out,’ in response and disappears out the door.

 

Lisa, clueless as ever, raises a brow at the others. “What’s with him?”

 

Manon simply sighs and shrugs, deciding it best to just finish her food and say nothing.

 

**SAMEDI 15h58**

 

The courtyard of the shopping centre is quietly bustling with children and parents hurriedly trying to get their weekend errands done. Lucas has his feet outstretched beside the table in front of him, his fingers tapping absently at the iron-like metal it’s made of.

 

Yann occupies the seat diagonal him with his phone dormant in his hands and his head tilted up toward the gentle overcast sky. Arthur and Basile have disappeared, off to find something to eat.

 

_Ping_

 

Lucas lifts his phone and swipes it open.

 

**From: The Artist**

_15:58_

you know, it’s rude to block a walkway

with your feet like that

 

Lucas sits up on high alert and looks around. Yann glances up from his own phone and raises a brow at his best friend.

 

“You okay, bro?” He asks, bringing Lucas’ eyes back to him.

 

“Ah, _ouais_. Yeah, just thought I heard someone call me.” The shorter says trying to look as though he is unphased as he sits back in his seat. He shouldn’t be as surprised as he is, this particular centre is extremely popular with the young adults in the area. It’s full of cheap stores, cafés that serve horrendously sweet coffee, beautiful seating areas, and - most importantly - other teenagers. It’s practically a hub for any and all secondary school students, so Eliott being here is far from out of the ordinary.

 

_16:00_

where are you?

 

_16:00_

look up

 

Lucas lifts his gaze to the line of balconies above the store fronts. There, holding a rolled cigarette between his deft fingers and staring Lucas down with that cerulean gaze, is Eliott. He’s poised at the railing of a balcony located above a bar Lucas and his friends rarely ever frequent, due to it being slightly steeper in its prices. The tall boy also has on a black v-neck, black pants, and black running sneakers, all melded together with a black apron that is tied neatly around his slim waist. It shouldn’t make him look as attractive as it does. His hair is in absolute disarray, and his eyes… they pierce into Lucas’ soul, like a needle through cloth. Eliott offers a slight upturn of his lips and holds up his other hand with his phone in it, as he blows out a long puff of smoke.

 

The little brunet lets a small smirk dawn on his lips and looks back down at his own phone screen.

 

_16:02_

are you stalking me?

 

_16:03_

how presumptuous of you

_16:03_

i work here, _en fait_ ;)

 

Of _course_ he does. Eliott is exactly the kind of gorgeous man that would work at a place like that. He probably serves snobby, rich kids coffee all day while looking like a god among men.

 

_16:05_

i’m on my smoke break

_16:05_

you seem bored out of

your mind

 

_16:06_

what makes you say that?

_16:06_

i’m here with friends.

 

_16:07_

do you usually stare at

your phone this much

when you’re with them?

 

_16:08_

i can stop texting you if

that’s what you want haha.

 

_16:08_

i didn’t say that.

 

Lucas can’t stop the smile on his face as he begins to type out another response.

 

“Who’s that?” Basile’s voice from over his shoulder scares him nearly into a heart attack, and Lucas slams his phone face-down on the table.

 

“None of your business, _mec_ ,” The brunet says, shoving the other boy. “Go away!”

 

“Alright, alright. God,” Basile says, rounding the table to sit in the empty chair next to Yann while Arthur takes the one next to Lucas. They come bearing baskets of some kind of cheese-covered fries, and the other three boys begin devouring them. Lucas refrains, on account of he’d rather die than eat something so horrifically greasy.

 

“Did I tell you guys that Daphné and I are going to the countryside in a couple weeks?” Basile is saying around a mouthful of fries and cheese. “We’re taking a trip for Valentine’s Day, you know, just the two of us. I’m not sure what we should do, though.”

 

Lucas has to refrain from outwardly rolling his eyes. It’s not that he isn’t happy for his friends - he actually thinks they’re very cute together - but he just detests any talk about relationships in general. He wouldn’t say he’s anti-relationships, he’s just very… _disinterested_. Especially when it’s about happy relationships that seem perfect on the outside. Whatever, Lucas could just be projecting his own ideas onto his friend’s lives, which - he decides - is a shitty thing to do. So he keeps his mouth shut.

 

“That’s cool, bro,” Arthur replies, plucking another fry from the basket. “Is it anywhere special?”

 

“Nah,” Bas shrugs, blushing a bit as he looks down at something on his phone, “just an excuse to get away.”

 

Lucas laughs a bit at that, and it’s not until he realizes that nobody else is laughing that he probably shouldn’t be. He glances at his friends and clears his throat. “Sorry, I’m just… Didn’t we just get back from a break?” He tries to cover up his malice. Sometimes he hates that he acts like this.

 

Bas doesn’t seem too phased by it as he just smiles and goes off on a tangent about how he and Daphné didn’t really get to see each other all of break because she was away with her family and he was busy helping his parents prepare for his older siblings to come home from university. He also makes mention of the fact that Daphné absolutely _loves_ Valentine’s Day, and would probably consider Basile the World’s Worst Boyfriend if he didn’t do anything special for it.

 

Lucas all but tunes him out after that, instead taking a liking to the view he has of the café balcony. Eliott isn’t looking at him anymore, instead scrolling through his phone. He’s still got that cigarette between his fingers, and _damn_ if Lucas didn’t find that incredibly fucking attractive.

 

“Lucas?” Yann’s voice draws his attention back to the table and he blinks away his daze.

 

“Yeah?” Lucas acknowledges, picking up his phone again and opening his messages again.

 

“Man, what’s with you today?” Yann asks. “You’re totally distracted and you keep staring off into space. Is everything okay?” Arthur and Bas look on in silent agreement, and Lucas rolls his eyes.

 

He admires the way his friends - all of them, really - care about him so deeply, he just wishes he didn’t feel so coddled by any expression of concern. It’s suffocating, but he knows they only ask out of love. So he tries to not let it get to him too much.

 

“I’m fine,” he offers, typing aimlessly on his phone, “just tired, I guess.”

 

“Okay,” Arthur’s the one who closes the conversation. At least, Lucas thinks he does until the glasses-wearing boy continues. “Hey, where were you last night? We missed you at the party.”

 

“Oh, _mec_ , it was crazy!” Basile exclaims. “The girls managed to convince the guard that they were just there to collect some stuff they’d forgotten during the day so he left for the night and we had an absolute rager!”

 

Lucas chuckles a bit. Of course the girls would manage to sweet talk their way into an empty school. He’s willing to bet Imane was the one who did the talking, too. “Sounds like I missed a lot then.”

 

“Yeah,” Yann says distractedly, nudging Lucas’ foot under the table to get his attention. When the shorter looks up, his best friend is looking at him with… this look that Lucas hasn’t seen since the week leading up to his coming out. He hates it.

 

“I said I’m fine.” He says, maybe a bit harsher than he intended. “I just wasn’t up for a party.” He adds in a gentler tone, looking back down at his phone as it buzzes in his hand.

 

Yann holds up his hands in surrender. “I was just checking in, man, no need to get angry.”

 

“I’m not angry,” Lucas sighs. “Thank you. I’m fine, though. Really.”

 

Yann offers a reassuring smile and nudges his best friend’s foot again. Then Bas steers the conversation back in the direction of his and Daphné’s upcoming ‘getaway,’ and Lucas focuses his attention back to his phone.

 

**From: The Artist**

_16:16_

you seem like you’re having fun

 

_16:16_

hardly. they’re a bit much at times

 

_16:17_

oh? i’m sorry to hear that. i wish

i had a longer break so i could

come down there and see you again

 

_16:17_

you can see me now ;)

 

_16:19_

you know what i mean, lucas

 

iMessage: yeah, i do, eliott

 

Lucas backspaces the entire message and shoves the phone in his jacket pocket. He tries to focus back in on the conversation going on around him, but he can feel Eliott’s stare even when he’s not looking at the taller boy.

 

“- I was thinking I could take her camping for a night, too!” He hears Basile say somewhere between his thoughts of panic.

 

“What?” Lucas says, finally re-focusing his attention to the boys. “No. No, no, no. Bas, Daphné would _hate_ camping.”

 

Bas’ smile falters a bit. “You think so?” He says, all concern and nerves.

 

Lucas has to force himself to sigh and offer a reassuring look toward the curly haired boy. “Basile, I’m sure that whatever you decide to do, Daphy will love it. She never stops talking about how romantic you are.” And that’s the truth, Daphné is constantly gushing over the way Basile is always so sweet to her. It makes Lucas sick, but it also makes him happy.

 

“Really?” Basile immediately perks up and launches into another list of things he could do on their trip to the countryside. All of which are incredibly sweet and romantic. Lucas feels a twist in his stomach as he looks up to see Eliott still staring at him from afar.

 

“Alex was talking about inviting everyone on another vacation. Like we did last year, at the end of May. You guys into that?” Lucas’ ears pick up on Arthur’s words as he sees Eliott wink in his direction, flick the doused cigarette to the ground, and head back inside the café.

 

Lucas can’t stop the scoff that comes out of his mouth. “Yeah, ‘cause that was _so_ fun. All you guys did was drink and fuck the whole time. I was alone practically everyday.”

 

He’s met with a chorus of ‘ _Mais, non_ ’s and ‘Come on, _mec_ , it wasn’t that bad’s from Arthur and Basile. Yann rolls his eyes at the shorter boy and nudges his arm playfully on the table.

 

“Oh, don’t let him ruin the fun, boys. I think it’s a _great_ idea.” The tallest says, looking between the others around the table before settling a teasing gaze on the smallest of them and clapping a large hand against his best friend’s shoulder. “Little Lulu’s just pissed because he doesn’t have a hot boyfriend to take with him to Morocco.”

 

Arthur and Basile begin to laugh and Lucas narrows his eyes at Yann. He feels his face begin to redden with anger, flaring just beneath his skin and overtaking his senses. He knows it’s coming, but he wishes it wouldn’t. He knows Yann is just joking, but it makes his chest clench and his vision go red.

 

See, Lucas doesn’t _need_ a relationship. He doesn’t _need_ the false sense of security that comes with just simply having someone to hang out with and have sex with, on occasion. He doesn’t _need_ the anger and frustration that no doubt comes along with every little disagreement and argument with that person. He doesn’t _need_ the complicated implications of romance and the unrealistic standards it comes with. He doesn’t _need_ the heartbreak that comes when that person realizes they could do so much better than him. He doesn’t _need_ that.

 

He doesn’t _want_ that.

 

Lucas simply rolls his eyes and knocks Yann’s hand away from his shoulder. “Just because you idiots are trying to get yourselves trapped in monogamy, doesn’t mean I’m going to.” He grumbles, standing up and shoving his hands in his pockets. “I’m leaving.”

 

“Lucas,” Yann sighs, turning to watch Lucas walk away. “Lucas! Come on, I was only joking, man!”

 

Lucas flips them off over his shoulder and picks up his pace.

 

There’s voices calling after him - calling his name, telling him he’s being ridiculous - but Lucas just keeps walking until he reaches the bus stop six blocks away.

 

**SAMEDI 16h28**

 

Lucas sits with his head pressed against the cool glass of the bus window, and stares out at the passing buildings and cars. His phone is going off in his pocket, but he ignores it adamantly.

 

The bus stops two blocks from his apartment building and Lucas disembarks to start heading down the street. His headphones are blasting in his ears and his hood is pulled up securely over his head. There’s clouds inhabiting the sky and a cold chill in the air, making Lucas’ nose slightly pink. He can hear the wind whipping around him, even above the pounding bass of his music.

 

The sidewalk is bustling with children playing, mothers reprimanding, and fathers chuckling into mugs of coffee. It makes Lucas’ gut twist with sour nostalgia. He remembers seeing his mother laughing and chastising him for being too rowdy while his father looked on from the cast iron café chairs. His eyes burn and he shoves his chin against his chest to keep walking.

 

The door to the apartment building is significantly heavier than he remembers it being when he throws it open. His feet carry him up the four flights of stairs to his floor where he catches Manon headed into her studio apartment across the hall.

 

“Hey!” She smiles brightly, upon seeing him. “I thought you were out with the guys?”

 

Lucas shoves past her and unlocks the apartment door.

 

“Lucas?” She says, voice gentler than before, and Lucas’ anger crests.

 

“ _Back off_ , Manon!” He shouts, rounding on her. His face is read and scrunched with anger. “I _was_ with the guys, now I’m _not_. God, why can’t you all just get off my case?!” He enters the apartment and slams the door, leaving her slightly dumbfounded in the hallway.

 

As Lucas storms through the apartment to his room and slams the door, his phone buzzes at his hip and he tugs it roughly from his pocket. He rips his headphones out as he unlocks the screen without checking the notification, assuming it’s Yann.

 

**From: The Artist**

_16:54_

i get off my shift in an hour. you

down to go jacket shopping with

me after? ;)

 

Lucas’ anger flares - weaker this time, but still there - and he clicks on Eliott’s contact information.

 

Name: The Artist

 

Before Lucas can even fully comprehend what he’s doing, his finger is hovering over the “Block Contact” button and his heart is pounding.

 

He doesn’t _want_ Eliott.

 

He doesn’t _need_ him.

 

He clicks the button before he can second guess himself, and swiftly turns off his phone to throw it and himself down against the bed, ready to forget the world around him.

 

**LUNDI 08h48**

 

Unsurprisingly, Manon doesn’t pick Lucas up for school the next morning.

 

Lucas’ got his headphones in and his hood pulled up as he makes his way through the main entryway of the courtyard, only to find it mostly empty. It’s pretty late, classes start in nearly ten minutes, and Lucas isn’t surprised to find students copying answers to this weekend’s homework sitting near the main doors to the building.

 

Yann is at his locker with Bas and Arthur. They’re all engaged in excited conversation when Lucas makes his way over, opening his locker and switching out his books. He tugs his phone out of his jacket pocket - well, he supposes it’s his jacket now - and sets it to vibrate before putting it back in his pocket.

 

“Hey, I’ve never seen you wear that jacket before.” Basile says, motioning to the worn brown fabric Lucas is swimming in.

 

“Ah,” Lucas mentally scrambles for an answer before shrugging, “I just got it.”

 

“It looks beat to hell,” Yann scoffs. “I hope you didn’t get cheated out of your money.”

 

Lucas shuts his locker and sighs. “It wasn’t very expensive,” He says disinterestedly. “So what goes on?”

 

“Nothing, Bas was just telling us about his exam in Madame Lefebre’s class.” Arthur says.

 

“It was awful. She didn’t give any questions on the material we studied!” Bas complains. “I know I failed.”

 

Lucas sighs. “Yeah, I had her last semester for French Literature. She was terrible -”

 

“Hey, boys!” Alexia’s voice chirped, cutting off what Lucas was going to say.

 

The boys looked up to find the girls walking opposite them. Greetings were exchanged and Lucas awkwardly gave a half smile to Manon, who gave him an infuriatingly sympathetic look.

 

Daphné’s energy was practically radiating as she began speaking excitedly, addressing the group as a whole.

 

“So I imagine Arthur’s already informed you that we’re planning on organizing another group vacation!” She’s gushing, putting her arm around Bas’ shoulders as she does so. “If anyone is opposed to that or can’t go, I’d rather know now than, like, a week before we leave, so -”

 

“Weren’t you planning this for, like, four months from now?” Lucas asks irritatedly. “Why do you need to know _now_ if we aren’t going? I have no idea yet.”

 

“What, do you have plans for four months from now?” Emma asks teasingly. Lucas just flips her off.

 

“Hey!” Imane suddenly exclaims, looking past the boys’ shoulders.

 

Before Lucas can turn around to see who she’s talking to, a warm bodied, familiar presence comes up behind him and his blood freezes.

 

“Hey, Imane,” Eliott’s voice is just above Lucas’ right ear. He doesn’t turn. He doesn’t think he’d ever be able to look away if he did.

 

“Guys, this is Eliott,” Imane says, pulling the taller boy over to her and gesturing to everyone. “Eliott, this is Daphné, Basile, Yann, Emma, Alexia, Manon, Arthur, and Lucas.”

 

Eliott offers them all a soft smile, eyes crinkling slightly at the edges. His gaze falls heavily on Lucas and his smile falters a bit. It comes back full force when he says, “Nice to meet you,” in a tone that has Lucas practically swallowing his tongue. He has to tear his eyes away from Eliott’s, for fear that he won’t be able to stop himself from blushing.

 

“Eliott is Sofiane’s friend,” Imane elaborates. “The one I was telling you about.”

 

Recognition dawns on the boys faces as they all begin shaking Eliott’s hand and offering up a chorus of ‘Oh, yeah!’s and ‘Nice to finally meet you, _mec_!’s. Lucas doesn’t shake his hand, just offers a half smile.

 

“Nice to meet you,” he says, quietly, meeting Eliott’s intense eyes. His heart twists a bit when Eliott flashes that blinding, sunny smile.

 

“Nice to meet you, too,” the taller boy says, seeming infuriatingly unphased as he looks Lucas up and down. “I like your jacket.”

 

Lucas wants to crawl in a hole.

 

“Thanks,” he chokes out before the bell rings and the groups all disperse to their respective classes. Eliott and Lucas walk past each other, heading in opposite directions, and the shorter boy can feel the electricity strike through his body when they do.

 

He chooses to vehemently ignore it.

 

**MERCREDI 04h29**

 

The fridge light assaults Lucas’ eyes as he opens the door to take out a beer. It’s somewhere near five in the morning, and Lucas’ patience for pretending to be asleep is wearing thinner than thin. The irritability is bubbling under the surface of his skin, but it’s far overpowered by the feeling of exhaustion weighing him down. He’s sure that the beer isn’t going to do anything except make him nauseous, but he takes it anyway and cracks it open with the bottle opener next to the fridge before closing the door.

 

“What are you doing?” Mika’s voice startles the hell out of him from the main foyer and Lucas nearly drops the beer to the ground.

 

“ _Christ_ , Mika, nothing!” Lucas whispers harshly so as to not wake up Lisa. He raises the beer to his lips and takes a messy swig. He doesn’t know why he jumped, he knows Mika works the graveyard shift on weekdays.

 

“You think that’s a good idea?” Mika asks, gesturing to the bottle in Lucas’ hand as he removes his coat and work shoes. “Don’t you have school in a few hours?”

 

Lucas rolls his eyes and empties a third of the bottle, just to spite his roommate. “Maybe it’ll make me tired.”

 

“Trouble sleeping, again?” Mika leans against the edge of the counter to stare at his younger roommate. The shorter merely nods and continues drinking. The elder sighs and gives Lucas a withering look. “Don’t you think you should maybe see someone about this?”

 

Lucas pulls the bottle away from his lips, some of the beverage dribbling down his chin, and narrows his eyes at Mika. “And say what, Mika? ‘Hi, I’m having trouble sleeping, but I have no explanation for it, so can you prescribe me sleeping pills?’ Yeah, that’ll go over _real_ well.”

 

Mika closes his eyes and presses his fingers to his temples. He’s obviously trying not to go off on the boy, but Lucas fucking _wishes_ he would.

 

“What, are you frustrated?” Lucas asks, sarcastically, his voice rising slightly. “Well, imagine how I feel!”

 

“I know, I know.” Mika huffs, keeping his eyes closed. “I’m sorry, I just thought -”

 

“You’re not my mother, Mika” Lucas knows that what he’s saying is hurtful, but he just doesn’t care anymore. He’s on twenty-three hours of no sleep and clearly not thinking properly. “I don’t need you to _think_ for me.”

 

“Don’t give me the same shit you give everyone else, Lucas!” Mika shouts, voice reverberating off the walls and making Lucas jump back in surprise. The older is looking at Lucas with a mixture of sadness and frustration, but his voice conveys nothing but pure anger. “I can’t help you, but I also can’t sit here and watch you make it worse. Either put the fucking beer down and go to sleep, or don’t do it where I can see you.” His anger tapers off into just sadness, but he looks away from Lucas and takes a deep breath.

 

“Mika-”

 

“I’m sorry, Lucas,” Mika says, quietly, “I wish there was a way I could help, but… I know there’s not.”

 

Lucas doesn’t say anything to that. He knows there’s truth behind it and he knows that it hurts Mika, but he just can’t bring himself to tell Mika that it’s okay. It’s not and it’s Lucas’ own fault.

 

Mika puts his bag on the back of a chair, slides past Lucas into his own bedroom, and shuts the door.

 

“Why are you guys yelling?” Lisa grumbles, entering the kitchen a few moments after Mika leaves a dumbfounded Lucas standing in the middle of the room with a beer in one hand.

 

“Sorry,” Lucas murmurs, taking himself and the beer in his hand back to his room and closing the door.

 

**MERCREDI 11h28**

 

( **5** ) Unread Messages From: **Manon** _3h Ago_

( **3** ) Missed Calls From: **Manon** _3h Ago_

( **7** ) Unread Messages From: **Yann** _37m Ago_

( **2** ) Missed Calls From: **Yann** _Now_

 

**MERCREDI 12h54**

 

**From: Yann**

_12:54_

did you see lucas this morning?

 

**From: Manon**

_12:58_

I thought he was running late

so I left without him. Is he not

here?

 

_12:59_

no he never came in

 

_12:59_

Did he text you?

 

_13:00_

nope, and he won’t answer

 

_13:00_

That’s weird? Should I call

Mika?

 

_13:02_

idk. i’m getting a little

worried

 

_13:03_

Me too. I’ll call after lunch.

 

_13:05_

_merci_

 

_13:05_

Of course ❤

 

**MERCREDI 13h18**

 

“He’s still asleep, Manon, I’m not going to wake him up.” Mika’s voice is muffled through his thin door, and Lucas’ chest hurts just that much more. He left his phone unplugged all night and it died only an hour ago, but he hasn’t charged it since.

 

He isn’t sleeping. He’s been awake for hours, and he can’t turn off his brain enough to fall back into the same fitful sleep he’s been cursed with for months.

 

“I caught him raiding a six-pack at 04:30 in the morning, and it didn’t look like he’d slept in a while.” Mika sounds resigned - upset, even - and Lucas closes his eyes against the onslaught of guilt that follows. Mika continues in a hushed tone, but loud enough that Lucas can still hear him. “I feel awful, Manon. Like I can’t do anything to help.”

 

Lucas feels moisture gather at the corner of his eye and wipes it away harshly.

 

“No, I know.” Mika sighs and Lucas can hear the floorboards creak as the older makes his way into the living room, voice becoming more clear. “I just… I don’t know. He’s so angry and upset all the time. I feel like… like I’m letting him down? I don’t know.” Mika repeats, sounding at a loss for words. “I know, he is … Yeah. Yeah, I know … I just hope he knows he can talk to us. I love him like my own brother, Manon, and it hurts to see him like this.” His voice sounds watery at the end. Lucas can hear him sniff. “Okay … Yeah, I’ll text you when he gets up. _Bisous_.”

 

Lucas’ eyes stay closed as the tears flow freely. He feels awful for making his friends worry. He could have texted, but he didn’t. He didn’t even answer when Mika knocked on his door a few hours ago. He feels terrible, but he won’t do anything about it.

 

His friends don’t deserve to be treated like this, so in a way Lucas supposes this is his punishment for being such a shitty person.

 

**VENDREDI 08h37**

 

It’s loud and bright when Lucas walks into the school building on Friday. His friends haven’t arrived yet, but he’s sure they’ll be here soon. When they are, he’s positive he’ll be questioned on where he was the last two days.

 

Lucas has to admit, the only thing keeping him from completely failing all of his classes when he skips like this is the fact that there’s nothing better for him to do than studying. Especially since sleep is out of the question.

 

His books land heavily against the metal shelf in his locker and he feels a presence behind him.

 

“Morning, _mec_.” Lucas grumbles, zipping up his bag and not bothering to turn around to look at Yann.

 

“Is that what you’re calling me, now?”

 

Lucas freezes. _That_ is not Yann’s voice. He shuts his locker and turns around to look Eliott in the eyes, mouth slightly ajar.

 

“What happened to ‘Mr. Artist’?” Eliott is smirking and Lucas wishes it didn’t make his knees weak.

 

“I, uh…” Lucas stutters. He adjusts his bag strap on his shoulder and watches as Eliott’s grip tightens on his own. _Huh_. _Interesting_. Eliott’s voice radiates nothing except confidence, but his body language screams something else entirely. Lucas clears his throat and leans back against his locker, schooling his expression into one of disinterest. “Sorry, I thought you were Yann.” He says, looking back toward the main doors as though he’s still looking for his best friend.

 

Eliott raises a brow. “You never answered my message,” he says and - _wow_ \- Lucas really wasn’t expecting to have this conversation. Like, ever.

 

“I know,” he says calmly, despite himself.

 

“Are you-”

 

“Morning, boys!” Arthur’s voice cuts off whatever Eliott was going to ask - _thank God_. Lucas can’t help the small sigh of relief as he pushes off the lockers to greet his friend.

 

“Yo. Where’s Bas and Yann?” Lucas asks.

 

“Bas is with Daphné and I _was_ with Yann until he ditched me to go talk to Emma,” Arthur rolls his eyes. “Not surprised, though.”

 

Lucas chuckles, trying to alleviate his inner anxiety. “Yeah, I’m actually only surprised it took them this long.”

 

Arthur offers a look of agreement before turning to Eliott abruptly. “You’re still joining us for drinks at Alexia’s tomorrow, right?” At Eliott’s nod, Lucas raises an eyebrow that he hopes is more curious than panicked.

 

“You guys are having a party tomorrow night?” The shorter asks.

 

“Yeah, bro!” Arthur says, excitedly. “I thought Yann texted you about it, but he said you weren’t answering. You should come! It’s gonna be fun.”

 

Lucas glances over at Eliott, their eyes meeting for a brief moment. Lucas ignores the flash of electricity he feels in the base of his spine and turns back to Arthur. “Sounds fun, I’ll meet you guys there.”

 

“Yeah, I’m coming straight from work so I’ll meet you all there, as well,” Eliott says, giving Arthur a gentle smile. The glasses-wearing boy beams at the two of them and nods once.

 

“Okay, great!” He says, walking backwards toward the classrooms. “See you both there, then!” Then he disappears into one of the rooms, and Lucas is left wondering why the _hell_ he would ever agree to go to that dumb party.

 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” Eliott says to drag Lucas’ attention back to his dark eyes, giving him a challenging look, “ _mec._ ”

 

Lucas feels ice run down his whole body as Eliott walks away, sauntering with his bag strap clutched tightly between his fingers. The shorter boy takes a deep breath through his nose and shoves his hands into his jacket pockets. It’s not Eliott’s jacket, so the warmth doesn’t comfort him. Instead, the scratchy material of his worn blue bomber envelops him in the same icy cold feeling Eliott’s betrayed look had moments ago.

 

As he walks to class, Lucas tries to convince himself that he’ll have fun tomorrow. Though every time he starts to believe it, that little voice in his head repeats one thing that makes his stomach drop in some weird mixture of anger and fear.

 

 _He will be there_.


	3. 1 FEBRUARY - 7 FEBRUARY 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hello, i’m back <3 hope you enjoy the chapter!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ATTENTION: Please do not copy and paste my work onto another account! If you would like to have it where you can find it, and you do not have an AO3 account where you can bookmark it, please copy THE DIRECT LINK to my work and keep it where you can always reach it (i.e. in your notes app) or share it where you and other people can always find it! You DO NOT have my consent to repost any of my work, regardless of whether credit is given or not.
> 
> Once again, I ask you kindly to NOT REPOST MY WORK ANYWHERE. I have had this happen too often to my work, and I would prefer to not have to report anyone else for it.
> 
> Thank you, and I’m sorry for the long note. <3
> 
> -
> 
> WARNING: There is a description of a mild panic attack in "DIMANCHE 00h18"! Please, if this will affect you negatively, I urge you to skip ahead to about 5 text blocks before "DIMANCHE 12h26" (i.e. "Should we... I mean, I can take you back ...").

**SAMEDI 23h39**

 

The music is loud and it sucks, but the girls have provided ample amounts of alcohol and Lucas is getting progressively less and less coherent as the night drags on.

 

The bass makes him feel like he’ll fall over so he sits on the arm of the couch, not caring whose space he may be invading by doing so. Tossing a look to the cushions next to him, he sees that he’s managed to get the couch at a moment where it was completely empty and slides down into the inviting upholstery.

 

The boys had all dispersed to go talk to other people, the girls are gathered in a corner talking amongst themselves, and Imane’s brother and his friends have shown up, so even Eliott is occupied.

 

The air is thick with smoke and warm air, making Lucas feel like he’s sitting in soup, but he’s got his beer balanced on his chest and his legs tossed up against the back of the couch, making his head feel like it’s spinning in all of its different function inhibitors, so he’s relatively unphased.

 

Lucas thinks he and the boys smoked one upon his arrival, but he can’t really remember right now. There’s also a number of different alcoholic beverages swirling in his system - Daphné’d handed him some weird mixed drink when he saw her and he’s pretty sure it was a glass of vodka with a splash of cranberry juice. His head is swimming, but he welcomes the wild sense of inhibition that comes with being this far under the influence.

 

A loud laugh, somewhere off to his left makes him snap open his eyes, which he hadn’t even realized were closed, and look over at the source of the sound. Through his blurry, crossing vision, Lucas can make out the bright, sunshine that is Eliott Demaury’s smile as the taller boy laughs at something Imane’s brother just said. His heart does that weird thing it always does when he sees Eliott’s smile, and he downs the rest of his drink, dropping the empty bottle to the carpeted floor beneath him.

 

He doesn’t feel well, his body is heavy, his eyes can barely stay open, and he feels like he’s going to shut down, but he would never say that to anyone. He figures it will soon be time to take his leave, and go pass out peacefully in his own bed.

 

As he lifts himself off the couch, the room begins to do a complete one-eighty, faces of his friends and random people he’s never met before swimming in and out of focus. He can feel his center of gravity shift as his knees give out, but a strong arm around his waist holds him steady. 

 

“Whoa.” Eliott says, gently. “Are you feeling alright? Maybe you should go home.”

 

Lucas regains his balance and processes what’s happening. He focuses on Eliott’s face, which has apparently moved to be right next to him instead of across the room like Lucas had last seen, and he can’t help but grab onto Eliott’s steady grip with his own shaking hand. The compromising position they’ve ended up in - Lucas leaning into Eliott’s strong embrace as Eliott stares at him with nothing but clear concern - sets in, and Lucas forces Eliott away from him out of panic. 

 

“’M fine.” He mumbles quietly, not wanting to bring attention to them. “I was about to head out.”

 

“Let me walk you home,” Eliott says. Upon seeing Lucas’ raised eyebrows in response, the taller boy reddens and backtracks. “No! Not like that! I- I just meant… You probably shouldn’t be walking through the streets so late like this. I promise, I’ll stay three meters behind you the whole time if you want me to.”

 

Lucas considers this. Eliott is _definitely_ right, he shouldn’t walk home alone while he’s this messed up, but some selfish force inside him continues to shout ‘NO,’ even as Lucas nods loosely. “Okay fine. You c’n walk me h-ome.” He mumbles, hiccuping between words and watching the relief spread across Eliott’s face. “Only b’cause I know it would be stupid t’ go out alone like this.” His slurring worsens, as though to prove his own point. 

 

Eliott chuckles, softly. “I’m gonna go say goodbye to my friends. Meet me at the door in five?”

 

Lucas hesitantly nods and watches as Eliott scampers off to his friends. Deciding that’s not a bad idea, Lucas scans the room for Yann, only to find that he and Emma are nowhere to be seen. Interesting, Lucas will have to inquire about that later if he remembers any of this. Upon further investigation, Lucas finds Basile is also currently out of commission due to Daphné’s mouth on his own in some remote corner, while Arthur has passed out on the floor with his head pillowed on Alexia’s shoulder. Warmth spreads in Lucas’ inebriated heart, because he just loves his friends so much and would do anything in the world for them. Later, Lucas will probably kick himself for being such a sap. 

 

As a precautionary measure, Lucas walks past Mika and Lisa - who apparently decided they couldn’t miss this - until he discovers Manon. She’s bobbing to the music in the kitchen, red solo cup half full in her hand. Charles is there too, but he’s a decent distance away as they have a quiet conversation. He has to give Charles credit where credit is due, since the man didn’t come back and force Manon to get back into a relationship with him. He simply told Manon he would be there when she was ready and settled into their friend group quite comfortably. If Lucas believed in love, he’s pretty sure he would confidently say that Charles loved Manon enough to let her go, if that’s what she wanted. It made him happy for her.

 

“Hey, Manon,” Lucas slurs, walking up to the two, “’M gonna head home. Not feeling too well.”

 

Manon’s smile fades slightly, and she scrutinizes him, with furrowed brows. “Lucas, how much have you had? You look like you’re about to be sick.” Her hand brushes the top of his perspiring forehead, as if to check his temperature. 

 

Lucas shrugs her off. “Not sure,” He admits. “But ’s okay, Eliott is - uh - walking me back.”

 

Manon gives him a worried look, glancing over at Charles who is offering a similar look in return. “Are you sure you don’t want a ride back?” The tall boy asks, gently. “I haven’t been drinking, or anything. I can take you back to the apartment in my car.”

 

The same voice that had been screaming ‘NO’ before is screaming ‘YES,’ now, but Lucas ignores it, yet again, and shakes his head. 

 

“Tha’s kind of you, Charles, but ’m alright. Eliott can take me back.” Lucas says. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Manon.” He hugs his friend and kisses her cheek before clapping Charles on the shoulder as he walks past. “Later, _mec_.”

 

When he reaches the door, Eliott is standing there in his sweatshirt, with his phone in hand. When he sees Lucas walking over he smiles, softly. “Ready?”

 

“Yep.” Lucas nods and reaches into the small closet by Alexia’s front door and grabs his jacket to pull on over his red v-neck. “Let’s go.” He looks up to see Eliott regarding him with an odd expression. He feels a blush rise on his face and shoves his hands in his jacket pockets, subconsciously. “What?”

 

Eliott blinks and shakes his head. “Nothing.” He says, opening the door for Lucas. “Let’s get going, it’s pretty late and you look like you can barely stand.”

 

Lucas regards him curiously for a moment, before stepping out of the door into the cool February air.

 

**DIMANCHE 00h18**

 

It’s cold and dark outside, but the street lamps light the empty sidewalk in front of them. Lucas would be concerned about the way his vision is crossing and his feet feel numb, but the alcohol and pot in his system are doing a great job of dulling those fears to nothing more than a passing thought.

 

“Where do we turn?” Someone asks beside him. Lucas startles before remembering that, yeah, he let Eliott walk him home. He collects his thoughts and looks at the signs around them. He recognizes them, but not as the ones that head to his apartment, only he can’t yet place where he knows them from. The fact that he’s seeing double - sometimes triple - isn’t helping either.

 

“Uh,” Lucas tries desperately to come up with a direction - anywhere, really - but he can’t find a lie to spit out. “I - don’t know.”

 

Eliott stops walking and stares at Lucas. “You don’t know?” He asks. “We’re going to _your_ apartment!”

 

Lucas winces and sinks away from the other boy’s scrutinizing gaze. “I’m sorry, I… I can’t think straight, right now. I… I don’t know where I am, or where I’m going, or where I need to go. I -”

 

Eliott sighs. “Lucas, it’s okay -”

 

“I- I think I was… walking home.” Lucas says, suddenly realizing where he is - where _they are_.

 

Eliott gives him a confused look. “Well… yeah, I was following you to your apartment -”

 

“No, I think I was going _home_.” His voice is full of panic and confusion.

 

“What do you mean?” Eliott asks, desperately trying to get Lucas to look at him. “Lucas, hey -”

 

“I was - I was going to my hou- my _parents_ ’ h-” He stops every other word, realizing that what he’s about to say isn’t technically true. He’s panting now, trying to remember which way his _fucking_ apartment is so that he can get out of here. 

 

“Lucas!” Eliott says loudly, hand reaching out to take hold of the boy’s arm.

 

Lucas catches his eye, gaze wild and feral. “I was-” He tries again before choking on the words. He feels like he going to vomit - like he _can’t breathe_.

 

Recognition dawns on Eliott’s face, and he immediately lets go of Lucas.

 

“Lucas?” He asks, slowly. “Lucas, can you hear me?”

 

Lucas feels panic rise in his chest when he realizes how distant and muffled Eliott’s voice sounds behind the ringing in his ears. “I- I-”

 

“Lucas,” Eliott says, firmly, still not touching him, “I asked if you could hear me.”

 

Lucas takes a deep, shuddering breath through his nose. “Yes.”

 

Eliott nods. “You’re panicking.” He says, gently. “Has this ever happened before?”

 

Lucas heaves a wheezing breath. “When- When I was a kid, b-but-”

 

Eliott guides them to sit on some bench on the sidewalk with a small touch to Lucas’ shoulder,feather-light and barely there. “Shh.” The taller boy soothes. “What helps? Can you remember what helps you through them?”

 

Images of his mother holding him to her chest and rocking him back and forth flash in Lucas’ mind, but he shakes his head, vehemently. “No.”

 

Eliott takes a deep breath himself, and nods. “Okay. Do you think touch would help you?”

 

Lucas wants to say ‘no,’ but there’s nothing he can think of that would help him more than a kind, reassuring touch. He has it on the tip of his tongue - ‘yes, please’ - but he can’t force the words out. Instead, he shakes his head ‘no,’ rocking himself in a short back-and-forth motion against the cool metal of the bench.

 

Eliott bites his lip. “Okay. Words? Do you need me to talk to you?” He looks like he so desperately wants to reach out - offer a comforting hand - and help. “Please, is there anything?”

 

Lucas brings his hands up to his face and tries to even his breathing. “Talk.” He chokes. “Talk to me.”

 

“Okay.” Eliott crosses his legs on the bench and faces the boy. “Okay, Lucas, it’s- it’s gonna be alright. You’re gonna be fine.”

 

“You- You’re bad at this…” Lucas stutters.

 

“I’m sorry.” Eliott says, softly. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what to say.”

 

Lucas huffs a dry laugh around his rapid breathing and stares up at the light-polluted sky. “Tell me… Tell me what you did today.” It’s complete bullshit, but Lucas will do anything to get the stabbing pain out of his chest. 

 

Eliott pauses - no doubt in confusion - before he speaks. “I… went to work, from around eight o’clock this morning to six o’clock this evening.” Lucas guesses this is what he asked for, but _Lord_ is it boring. He breathes deeply, focusing on the words. Eliott continues. “Afterward, I went home and showered. I… sketched for a while, and then I went to the party.” He feels Eliott shift, watching Lucas closely from his side of the bench. “I saw you. You were laughing and smiling over a joint, with your friends, when I walked in. You looked happy.”

 

Lucas doesn’t remember it that way, but he’s too distracted by the fact that his breathing has started to calm down and the tight feeling in his chest has started to subside.

 

Eliott seems to notice and the tension falls away from his shoulders. “Are you alright?”

 

Lucas sighs and closes his eyes, feeling the exhaustion - both mental and physical - wash over him in a wave. He’s able to give a jerky nod as he keels over, plants his elbows on his knees, and rests his head in his palms.

 

Eliott is silent for a long time before speaking at the same soft level he had been since they’d sat down. “I’m sorry.”

 

Lucas lets out a surprised huff and looks over at the boy next to him. “What for?”

 

Eliott shrugs, shyly. “I dunno.”

 

Lucas sighs and leans back, again. A few cars pass on the otherwise abandoned street before he speaks again. “I don’t feel well.”

 

Eliott bites his lip. “Do you need a hospital, or -”

 

“No.” Lucas says, quickly. “No, no I need a bucket.”

 

Eliott’s eyes widen in realization, and he opens his mouth to say something. Lucas doesn’t get to hear it, though, because he is already hurtling over the bench to go empty the contents of his stomach into a nearby trash bin. He hears the taller boy wince and gets up to walk over to Lucas.

 

When Lucas is finished being sick, he collapses to his knees on the concrete and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

 

“Should we… I mean, I can take you back to my apartment.” Eliott suggests. “It’s not too far, and you look like you need sleep.” He prattles. “I also don’t know where you live, and neither do you at the moment, so -”

 

“Yeah.” Lucas coughs.

 

Eliott pauses. “Okay.” He says, quietly.

 

Lucas hears him walk up next to him and glances up at him. Eliott’s hand is outstretched and he’s giving Lucas the softest look he’s ever received. Lucas should be angered by this, but it makes him feel… safe. He reaches out and grabs onto the taller boy’s hand, allowing himself to be helped onto his feet.

 

They walk in silence and if Lucas actually does remember where he is now, he doesn’t say anything.

 

**DIMANCHE 12h26**

 

Lucas comes into consciousness feeling the most well-rested he’s been in a long time. His body feels warm and comfortable - at ease, even - as he sinks deeper into the soft surface beneath him. There’s a voice coming from outside of the room, so Lucas rolls over and shoves his head under the pillow.

 

It takes about ten seconds before he realizes that the pillow doesn’t smell like his own, and the voice outside is definitely not one he’s used to waking up to.

 

Bolting upright, Lucas looks around the room - which is definitely _not_ his own - and blinks against the harsh light of early afternoon.

 

“He’s still sleeping.” Eliott’s voice says somewhere near the mostly closed door. “I was going to wake him, but he didn’t seem to be uncomfortable, so I let him sleep.”

 

Lucas panics, briefly, before throwing himself out of the bed he’s in and looking around the room for his clothes. When had those disappeared?

 

Once he’s dressed and headed for the door, he pauses, waiting to see if Eliott is near.

 

“No, he’s fine.” Eliott sounds distant, like he’s in another room, so Lucas opens the door, slowly.

 

“I suppose he’ll be massively hungover when he gets up, but other than that he seems alright.” Eliott must be talking to someone on the phone. Lucas is _sure_ it’s Manon.

 

“No, he just got lost.” Eliott sighs. “And I don’t know where the apartment is, so I took him back here … No … He got sick last night, yeah … No, he’s alright now … Well, I made breakfast, but he still hasn’t woken up, so I’m not sure if he’ll eat it.”

 

Lucas tiptoes his way toward, what he assumes is, the kitchen and looks around for the front door. Just as he spots it, a floorboard behind him creaks and he freezes.

 

“I think he might be waking up.” Eliott says, quietly into his phone. “I’ll call you back later.”

 

Lucas sighs and turns to look at the other boy, who’s standing in the entrance of the hallway with his cell phone clutched in one hand. His hair and clothes - which are from last night - are a mess, and he looks like he got next to no sleep. Aside from the bags under his eyes though, Eliott is still frustratingly beautiful.

 

After a few moments of silence, Eliott looks away. “Good morning.” He says.

 

Lucas doesn’t respond, just glances around the room he’s standing in, which appears to be the living room. The couch has a blanket and a pillow on it, suggesting Eliott found shelter on the couch after Lucas took over his bed. 

 

“Sorry for intruding.” Lucas says, motioning toward the couch.

 

“Are you feeling better?” Neither of them are responding to one another, directly, but the conversation pushes on

 nonetheless.

 

“I think I should get going.” Lucas says after another few moments of awkward silence.

 

“Wait -” Eliott takes a step forward, causing the two to lock eyes across the little living area. Whatever the taller boy was about to say, dies on his lips. He stutters before finally scrounging up a sentence. “Are you hungry?”

 

Lucas blinks and swallows, glancing toward the kitchen. Whatever Eliott made smells devine, even to someone as hungover as Lucas, and his stomach makes that fact known with a low growl.

 

Eliott softens, tension falling away from his shoulders, and a small smile gracing his lips. “I’ll take that as a yes. Come eat something.” He motions toward the kitchen, which Lucas hesitantly stares at before deciding he’s either too hungry, or too stupid, to leave so soon.

 

“What happened after we got here?” Lucas asks as they enter the little kitchenette. There’s eggs and bacon piled on a plate and what Lucas can only assume is muffins in the oven. His stomach makes a sound of approval, but it’s covered up by the soft, slow music coming from the old, beaten record player Eliott has going on top of the breakfast bar.

 

“You fell asleep pretty much right away,” Eliott says, reaching up to get some plates down from the cupboard - Lucas adamantly ignores the strip of skin it reveals at the top of Eliott’s waistband. Once the taller boy has what he’s looking for, he places the two plates on the counter and starts to split up the food he made. “After stripping yourself of all of your clothes, of course.”

 

Lucas blushes madly, and flinches. “I’m sorry. That must have been so obnoxious to deal with.”

 

Eliott chuckles and turns around, breakfast plates in either of his hands, and walks over to the table to place them down. “I’ve seen worse when working the night shift.” He says, heading back over to the fridge to get a bottle of juice. He seems to hesitate before speaking again. “I was mostly just worried about you.”

 

Lucas swallows as he takes a seat at the table. “Thanks, but I’m fine.” He says before quickly changing the subject. “This smells good.”

 

Eliott gives him a tentative look as he puts the juice on the table and sits down. “Thanks. I figured you would be hungry when you woke up, so I made some food.”

 

Lucas looks over the boy sitting across the table from him and finally takes in exactly how exhausted he looks.

 

“Did you sleep well?” Eliott asks, stealing the words right out of Lucas’ mouth as he takes a bite of his eggs.

 

Lucas blinks and picks up his fork to start on his meal. “Yeah.” He says and, for the first time in a long time, he’s being honest. “What about you?”

 

Eliott gives a reassuring smile and nods. “Yep” He lies. Lucas’ not sure how he can tell Eliott is lying, but he knows he is. 

 

“You could have put me on the couch.” Lucas says, eating his eggs. “When I’m drunk, it’s pretty easy to steer me wherever you want me.” He realizes, as soon as the words leave his mouth, how idiotic that is to say. “I mean -”

 

“Nah, it’s okay.” Eliott says, smiling at him. “You seemed comfortable.”

 

Lucas blushes and shuts himself up with some more eggs and a bite of bacon. 

 

The song in the background fades into something much softer and, suddenly, Lucas feels very domestic. It makes his stomach turn uncomfortably. 

 

“You live here by yourself?” Lucas asks, trying to distract himself. 

 

“Yeah,” Eliott says, “my parents pay the rent and I cover utilities and living costs. I just needed to be on my own.”

 

“That’s nice.” Lucas says.

 

“What about you?” Eliott asks, fork clinking against his plate. “You live with Manon’s old roommates, right?”

 

Lucas swallows his food and takes a sip of the orange juice Eliott poured for them. “Uh, yeah.” He starts, nervously. “I moved out of my parents’ - my _mom’s_ house two or so years ago.”

 

“So young?” Eliott asks and Lucas fixates his eyes on the wooden table beneath his plate. The taller boy blushes and stammers. “I - I didn’t mean - I just - Sorry, that was rude of me -”

 

Lucas looks up at him and gives a half smile. “It’s alright.” He says, quietly. “You’re right, I was super young. I just… couldn’t be around it anymore.”

 

“Are your parents, um,” Eliott hesitates, taking a sip of his juice. 

 

“They’re divorced.” Lucas says. It doesn’t really bother him to talk about, his father’s a massive prick, so it was bound to happen some time.

 

Eliott swallows his drink and places his glass down gingerly on the table. “Okay.”

 

They’re silent for a long time, and Lucas finishes his breakfast while avoiding eye contact.

 

Eliott’s phone goes off on the table, but he ignores it, taking much more interest in pushing his half-eaten eggs around his plate. 

 

Tapping his foot nervously against the floor, Lucas finally stands and goes to rinse his dish off in the sink. “Thank you, by the way.” He says over the running water. “For breakfast, and for letting me sleep here.”

 

“It’s no trouble.” Eliott’s voice is suddenly behind him and it makes Lucas drop his fork into the sink. He shrugs it off and dries his hands, allowing Eliott to wash his own plate, which he’d scraped off into the trash. “I couldn’t just leave you in the street.”

 

Lucas presses his lips together and gives a curt nod. “Right, well,” He clears his throat, “I’m just gonna head out, then. Have you seen my coat?”

 

Eliott freezes and doesn’t look up. He shrugs. “Nope. Maybe it’s still in my room?” He suggests, not looking up. Lucas feels ice run up his spine, much like it had in the hall the other day when Eliott had given him that cold look of betrayal. 

 

Lucas, confused, backs out of the kitchen and heads back in the direction of the bedroom. “I’ll go check, ” He stumbles, turning and heading back into the room. 

 

He rushes in and closes the door behind him, feeling as though he’s hiding from a wild animal for some reason. Eliott didn’t seem angry, just… cold. Lucas’ not sure why that affects him so much, but he can’t shake the feeling of guilt he’s struck with. Taking a deep breath, he looks around, trying his best not to snoop through any of Eliott’s things as he does so.

 

There’s no jacket, but he does find a plethora of artwork, all of it beautifully crafted and preserved in neat piles on Eliott’s desk. There’s pens and paint strewn about every available surface, and Lucas has to catch some as they roll off of the night stand. On the walls are pinned-up drawings of animals. There’s a fox, a cat, some kind of bird, but the one that Lucas sees come up the most often is a raccoon. Sometimes it’s smiling, doing things like making coffee or standing at a stove over some kind of dish, but other times - a lot, in fact - it seems dejected and surrounded by darkness. The blackness surrounding one drawing, in particular, looks like it was done by someone who was taking their anger out on a pen - wild ink strokes pressed so hard into the paper that it’s ripped in certain places. Lucas feels a pang in his chest as he reaches out to run his fingers over the angry marks.

 

“Found it!” Eliott’s voice scares Lucas half to death and the shorter boy clamors out of the room.

 

“Coming!” He yells, making his way down the hallway and into the living room. When he spots Eliott, the boy is holding out his jacket, looking resigned and tired - not unlike the raccoon in those drawings.

 

“Thank you.” Lucas says. “I -” He stops, hand hanging mid-air as he realizes what jacket he’d _stupidly_ decided to wear the night before.

 

“Here.” Eliott says, brandishing the worn, brown canvas like he can barely stand to touch it. Lucas’ heart seizes as he takes it, gently, from the boy’s hand.

 

“Eliott, I -”

 

“Please go,” Eliott says, not looking up at him. “Please.”

 

Lucas swallows around the lump in his throat and nods. “Okay,” he says quietly as he heads out the door with heavy steps. 

 

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” He asks, as Eliott is about to shut the door. The taller boy freezes, finally looking at the boy in front of him.

 

“Do you want to?” He asks, and Lucas is dumbstruck, caught completely off guard and unable to say anything. Does Eliott know he blocked his number? Why does the look on the taller boy’s face hurt him so much? Lucas has so many things he wants to say, yet they all get lost in his chest.

 

“Goodbye, Lucas.” Eliott shuts the door, leaving Lucas to stand there, gaping like a fish and wondering, _what the fuck just happened?_

 

**MARDI 13h48**

 

Eliott wasn’t in school, yesterday or today. Lucas doesn’t know why this means so much to him, but he feels a tug in his chest that is strangely similar to that of guilt.

 

He wraps his thin sweatshirt tighter against the chill that assaults him when he exits the main building. He’s freezing, but he’s too proud to admit that his only warm coat makes him feel like there’s a giant hole in his heart. Rest assured, when Lucas arrived home on Sunday, he stuffed that thing in his closet and tried his hardest to forget it.

 

Yann had asked him if he wanted to hang out, but he’d said no, giving some bullshit excuse about an exam he needed to study for. He should have felt bad - Yann looked so defeated when he turned down another instance to be together with the boys - but Lucas’ head is starting to ache and his heart feels heavier than it has in months. 

 

He hadn’t slept a decent amount since Saturday night - technically Sunday morning - and it’s beginning to catch up with him. Yet again, Mika had asked him where he’d been and, yet again, Lucas had snapped at him, yelling about how ‘he’s an adult’ and ‘can make his own decisions, _putain_!’ Lucas feels no less ashamed of this than he does every other time it happens, but the worst was by far Manon.

 

When he’d arrived home she was there, waiting. She didn’t ask him anything, simply smiled and offered him something to eat - she’d clearly been cooking for hours by the time he’d arrived and had flour all over her face. When he declined and disappeared to his room, the look on her face is something he will never be able to unsee. Lucas feels like he’d disappointed God herself.

 

He tries not to think too much as he walks past the bus stop, deciding it best to take the long way home and be trapped with his thoughts.

 

**MERCREDI 17h37**

 

**Blocked Contacts**

 

Name  : _The Artist_

 

Lucas’ thumb hovers over the ‘Unblock’ button for, what could be hours. He takes a deep breath, lowering his thumb until just before it grazes the button and shuts his eyes. A surge of anxiety washes over him and he flicks his phone off, instead. 

 

The sunlight in his room is fading away, slowly, and Lucas’ brain is considerably louder than he would like it to be, but that’s nothing new. Not recently.

 

He wants nothing more than to just collapse in his bed and sleep for days, but every time he rolls over and looks at his closet door, he’s reminded of the jacket and of Eliott and of how good he is at making the people around him feel like shit. It’s a slow torture that Lucas is positive he deserves. If he believed in God, he’s sure they would have done this to him as a form of punishment for being so unbearable.

 

Lucas hears the front door of the colloc open and he registers the sound of Mika putting his keys on the counter and opening the fridge. He must have worked an earlier shift today, Lucas guesses.

 

He’s not entirely sure why, but his legs suddenly drag him out of his bedroom and toward the kitchen, footsteps quiet and light against the wooden floor paneling.

 

Mika is standing at the counter, bottle of water in one hand and his mail in the other. He takes a sip and tosses the envelopes down onto the granite to turn toward his room. When he spots Lucas standing in the doorway to the kitchen, he stops and removed the water bottle from his lips to speak. “ _Chatuna_ ,” He smiles, “I thought you’d still be out with your friends.”

 

Lucas shrugs, looking down at the floor. “Wasn’t feeling up to it.”

 

Mika nods, understandingly. “Ah.” He says, walking over to the boy and ruffling his hair. “It’s alright to need time to yourself, little one.”

 

Lucas watches as Mika walks past him and opens his mouth to stop him. “Mika?”

 

The older boy stops and turns to him, smiling expectantly. “ _Ouais_?”

 

_“Thank you,” “I’m sorry,” “I’ll do better.”_

 

Lucas swallows down the words he wants to say, and leans against the wall. “I’ll get you the rent soon.” He says, instead. “I promise.”

 

Mika seems to see his struggle and sighs, giving the teenager a soft look. “It’s okay, Lucas. Take your time.”

 

With that, he heads toward his room, leaving Lucas standing in the kitchen doorway with his eyes closed against the invasion of thoughts screaming ‘ _stupid, stupid, stupid_ ’ at him.

 

**VENDREDI 14h32**

 

It’s beautiful out today. There’s sunshine and birds and Lucas is walking with his friends on a sidewalk full of smiling children and mothers. Usually, he would go out of his way to find a bad thing about the world around him, but he feels light today. 

 

Yann is rambling on about some grade he got back, Basile is nodding along in agreement as the taller boy speaks, and Arthur is wandering off, staring at the sky and the trees, idly commenting about what Yann is saying. Lucas feels… happy.

 

When they reach the bus stop, Lucas is actually a little sad he has to part.

 

“See you later, bro.” Yann says, tugging Lucas into a tight hug before Basile and Arthur do the same. “We should hang out this weekend.”

 

Lucas smiles because he actually _wants_ to do that. “Yeah, okay. Text me.”

 

Basile pats the side of Lucas’ face gently before making a lightning fast movement and tapping him in the dick. “ _ChatBitte_!”

 

Lucas groans and shoves Basile away, laughing. “Fuck off, you morons!” He calls after them as the three of them run off, a bunch of loud, rowdy teens disrupting the peace. Lucas can’t stop the bright smile that breaks across his face.

 

The bench at the stop is empty, so Lucas takes a spot at the far end and takes out his phone.

 

**To: Papa**

_14:35_

hey, dad, i really need the money

transfer this month. my rent was due

last week and i don’t want to keep

my roommates waiting.

 

He goes to slip his phone back into his sweatshirt pocket, but it buzzes before he can do so.

 

**From: Papa**

_14:36_

I gave you money not long ago.

What happened to that?

 

_14:38_

i needed it for last month’s late

rent. i also really don’t have any

money for food.

 

_14:38_

Well, which is it? Do you need

money for food or for rent?

 

_14:39_

both.

 

_14:42_

Why don’t you text your mother?

 

_14:43_

she’s paying for her therapy

 

Lucas is getting progressively more angry as this conversation progresses, but he keeps his composure as well as he can when responding.

 

He sees the three dots pop up at his father’s side of the screen, watching as they disappear and reappear a few times before his phone begins to ring.

 

With a sinking feeling, Lucas slides the graphic at the bottom of the screen and answers the call, getting up from the bench and heading away from the busy bus stop, so as to not bother the couple that has just sat down next to him. “Papa, I -”

 

“From now on, you call your mother for money, you understand me?” His father is whispering, as though he’s ducked away somewhere important, but the anger in his voice is no less present. “I’m done with this shit, Lucas. I can’t afford to keep giving you money like this.”

 

“But Mama needs to pay for -”

 

“I don’t _care_ !” His father hisses. “Your bitch of a mother bled me dry in that divorce. _She_ wanted you, _she_ can pay for your little temper tantrum!” 

 

Lucas chest sinks with anger. “Papa, I just need the rent -”

 

“Lucas!” His dad appears to have gotten out of whatever he was doing because he’s shouting now, causing Lucas to flinch. “Just because you don’t want to live at home anymore doesn’t make you entitled to _my_ hard-earned money! If you won’t ask your mother, _get a job_. I’m done providing for a child that isn’t mine!”

 

Lucas has tears in his eyes but he wipes them away quickly. The clouds around him have started to swirl, mimicking the feelings of anger and heartbreak in his stomach. He doesn’t say anything because, when he opens his mouth, all he can do is take a shaky breath.

 

“Oh, don’t you fucking cry, now.” His father says. “Start taking some adult responsibility for yourself! This was your decision, now you have to deal with the repercussions.”

 

Lucas clamps his mouth shut to stop any more uneven breaths from escaping him. He simply waits, in silence, as his father lets out a long suffering sigh.

 

“Goodbye, Lucas.”

 

The line goes dead, but the words linger and sting in Lucas’ chest. It’s the second time this week he’s heard those words, but they get no less painful every time he hears them.

 

He has tears staining his cheeks and his hand his frozen in place, phone still pressed to his ear and mouth agape as the tears flow over his reddened cheeks. The rain coming down around him is just another thing added to a shitty end of, what was once, a beautiful day.

 

The worst part is that he knows his father is right. He did this to himself, and now he’s just reaping what he’s sewn.

 

Lucas misses the bus, but he decides walking home in the rain may clear his mind. It may just make him forget everything that’s happened over the last week - month, _year_ \- of his life.

 

It doesn’t. It just drenches him in rain and chills him to the bone.

 

**VENDREDI 23h57**

 

When Lucas finds his way home it’s late - nearly midnight - and he’s thoroughly drenched and shivering when he pushes the door to the apartment open. He’d found some quiet bench in the park to take refuge on, and sat in the rain for hours, alternating between being so incredibly angry and so incredibly heartbroken, all the while his tears mixing with the cold rain drops soaking his face and through his clothes. When he sees Mika in the kitchen, he ducks his head and tries his best to sneak by, unnoticed. He’d completely forgotten the older boy had taken today off for a doctors appointment, but it’s okay. He can just sneak by, and -

 

“Lucas?” Mika asks, catching the boy about to disappear toward his room. The younger boy freezes - save for his shivering body - and glances back at Mika.

 

“Sorry.” He mumbles. “I… was out with the boys.”

 

“For so long?” Mika asks, walking over to him, placing the mug of tea he’d made on the counter. “You’re soaking wet.”

 

Lucas shrugs. “We were outside.”

 

“It’s pouring.”

 

“I know, Mika!” Lucas shouts. “I know it’s pouring, I know it’s cold, I know I’m late on rent, I know I’ve been terrible to you, I know you’re disappointed in me, I know Manon is upset with me, I know I’m a burden to you, I know you don’t want me here, I know my father doesn’t want me at all, I -” He chokes on his words and hangs his head in his hands. “I’m sorry.” He says, shakily. “I’m so sorry. For not paying my rent, for being such a fucking asshole all the time, for pushing you away when you’re just trying to help. For everything. I’m so, so sorry.” He’s crying again, sobs making his breaths catch in his throat and tears soaking into his palms. He can feel Mika staring at him and forces himself to look up at his roommate, tears still overflowing in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Mika.” He repeats, voice breaking.

 

Mika drags the boy, wet clothes, tear-stained face and all, to his chest and hugs him tightly. His grip becomes almost too tight, but Lucas collapses into it, feeling himself shake against the older boy’s chest - whether it’s from the cold or his sobs, he can’t be sure. When he hears a shaky breath that isn’t his own, Lucas tilts his head up to look at Mika, who has tears clouding his own eyes as his hands come up to grab the smaller boy’s shoulders.

 

“You,” He starts, firmly, “are _not_ a burden. You are family.”

 

Lucas feels something inside him break and all he can do is shake his head, months of frustration and sadness pouring out of him. “No, no -”

 

“Yes.” Mika says, jerking the teenager’s shoulders, gently. “Fuck your dad, he’s a tool. _I_ want you. _Manon_ wants you. It may not always seem like it, but even _Lisa_ wants you. _We_ want you, Lucas.”

 

Lucas crumbles, burying his face against Mika’s chest and sobbing so loud he’s worried he’ll wake up the whole building, but Mika holds him together, arms wrapped tightly around the shaking boy and offering soothing words as he cries into his chest.

 

“Shh, Lucas.” He says quietly, tears clear behind his quivering voice. “I’m here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Bella (@iwantmessedup3000 on tumblr), as always, for betaing and removing my excessive commas! Also, thank you Zoë (@keanushair on ao3 and @unmecchelou on tumblr) and Maria (@sauvonslefoyer on ao3 and @sauvonslefoyer on tumblr) for betaing and encouraging me to write this even when I had writer's block and wanted to throw the whole thing away (: Love all three of you to the ends of this earth!!


	4. 8 FEBRUARY - 14 FEBRUARY 2020

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ATTENTION: Please do not copy and paste my work onto another account! If you would like to have it where you can find it, and you do not have an AO3 account where you can bookmark it, please copy THE DIRECT LINK to my work and keep it where you can always reach it (i.e. in your notes app) or share it where you and other people can always find it! You DO NOT have my consent to repost any of my work, regardless of whether credit is given or not.
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> As usual, thank you @keanushair, @sauvonslefoyer, and @iwantmessedup (tumblr) for being my biggest fans and always loving and supporting my writing even when I think it's awful :') I love you all so very much <3

**SAMEDI 02h18**

 

Lucas can feel the exhaustion with every hiccuping sob he that rattles him. It’s been nearly two hours and Mika hasn’t let him out of his sight. They’re on the couch, Mika on one end giving space between them, and Lucas on the other leaning helplessly against the soft cushions, releasing dry sobs that jerk his entire body. The younger boy thinks he heard Lisa walk in a little while ago but, if she did, she’s gone back to bed and the main room is silent again.

 

The tears had stopped a little while ago, Lucas finally having nothing else to give, and now his hiccuping gasps have begun to subside into nothing more than irregular breathing.

 

“Do you want to talk about what happened?” Mika asks after a long pause. He hasn’t moved, hasn’t tried to touch Lucas or hug him again, he’s just been sitting there, looking on with an expression crossed somewhere between pain and sadness.

 

Lucas takes a shuddering breath and covers his face. Mika had made him change out of his soaked clothes and into a clean pair of sweats and a tee shirt, which the older had loaned him after they discovered Lucas hadn’t done laundry yet. The clothes are comfortably oversized on his lithe frame, and Lucas finds comfort in them. He feels warm and protected, the smell of Mika - of the colloc and fabric softener - put him more at ease than the cold, rain-soaked attire he had on previously.

 

“No,” The smaller boy admits, speaking into his palms. “But I should.”

 

Mika shakes his head. “You don’t have to -”

 

“I do,” Lucas whispers, lifting his head. “I have to.”

 

They sit in silence for a few more minutes. Lucas wipes his cheeks and settles his unfocused gaze on the floor in the far corner. He pillows his head against the back of the sofa and takes a long, suffering inhale before he finally collects his thoughts and speaks.

 

“My father cut me off today,” he says, quietly. “He… told me he shouldn’t have to provide for a son that isn’t his anymore.”

 

Mika clenches his jaw, but Lucas can see he refrains from saying anything, so he continues.

 

“He said my mother was the one who wanted me, so she should pay for my rent.” Lucas’ voice is becoming strained again, but there are no tears left for him to give, so he just struggles around the hard lump in his throat. “Since I’m eighteen, he doesn’t have to pay any child support, so I guess I can’t really blame him. I just… I can’t ask that of my mother. She’s done so much for me throughout my life. And now she needs me to be there for her and I can’t even do _that_ -” His voice cracks and he has to stop, swallowing around the dryness in his mouth.

 

Mika looks at him with soft, sad eyes. Lucas would normally be annoyed - angry, even - but he’s just so _exhausted_ that he doesn’t even bat an eye.

 

“What’s wrong, Lucas?” Mika asks, sitting up on his end of the couch. “Why won’t you go to your mother?”

 

Lucas just shakes his head in defeat. “I can’t let her see me like this. She’s always been so strong for me, and now I’m… I can’t even walk near that house without having a breakdown. I don’t - I feel…” For a moment, he can’t find the word. Trapped? Angry? Frustrated? Sad? No. “… ashamed. I feel like I would let her down.”

 

Mika blinks at him, confused. “Lucas, why would you feel ashamed? You’re one of the strongest people I know, do you know that?” Lucas shakes his head. 

 

“I’m really not,” he whispers. “I’m a fucking coward. I left her alone for Christmas, I left her alone during the divorce. She can’t rely on me for shit. I’ve been awful to her. I called her insane the last time I spoke to her, Mika, I feel so fucking guilty.” He feels his chest tighten at the memory, but he closes his eyes and shoves it away. “I don’t deserve her help. I tried to find a job - anywhere that would hire a _lycée_ student on part time - but there was nothing. Not even a café. I’m so sorry, Mika, I’m truly sorry. I don’t know what to do about rent this month, I -”

 

Mika shakes his head. “Lucas, stop,” he says, finally reaching forward to bring the boy closer, holding him - shaking and sniffling - against his chest. “Don’t worry about this month, I can help you out. You won’t be sleeping on any more park benches, at least not while I’m around. Do you hear me? I won’t throw you out on the street, _chatuna_. I won’t.”

 

If Lucas could, he would cry again. Pressing himself closer to Mika’s protective embrace, he lets himself curl his fingers into the fabric of the older man’s shirt. It feels… good to talk, even if it’s just a little. Mika’s kind eyes make Lucas feel as though he isn’t being completely irrational, even if he is. His eyes screw shut against the wave of raw emotion that comes over him, and he whimpers out a quiet and shaky, “ _Merci_.”

 

Mike shakes his head and presses his chin against the top of Lucas’ hair. “We’re family, Lucas. Remember that.”

 

And here Lucas thought he couldn’t cry any more than he already had.

 

He’s been wrong before, though.

 

**SAMEDI 05h19**

 

Lucas wakes up in his bed, a thick blanket tucked around him and a glass of water placed on the nightstand next to him. Shifting, he notices the door to his balcony has been propped open and a small shiver runs up his spine.

 

Lucas knows - and apparently, so does Mika - that so many tears will leave you dehydrated, so he empties the glass of water before getting up to close the door.

 

As he turns around to head back to his bed, the door to his closet catches his eye, and he feels something in him draw his feet toward it. He doesn’t have the energy to stop himself, so he merely lets instinct drive him as he pulls the door open and peers inside. The room around him is dark, and so is the closet, but what he’s looking for would stand out to him a mile away in the darkest of places. Once Lucas finds what he’s looking for, he grabs it, and slowly brings it up to his face to inhale the scent of cigarettes and paint.

 

The jacket is heavy and warm around him as he crawls back into bed, curling up on himself and hiding as deep into the canvas as he is able. His heart stills as he catches sight of his phone, laying next to the empty glass on his nightstand. With a surge of confidence, Lucas picks it up. He hesitates, only a moment, before unlocking the screen and clicking a series of buttons. Once what’s done is done, he quickly puts it on silent, tosses it onto the nightstand, and burrows under the covers - the canvas collar of the jacket pulled up to shield him from the world. 

 

**Blocked Contacts**

 

 _No numbers have been blocked_.

 

**SAMEDI 05h22**

 

**From: The Artist**

Sam, 25 Jan, _18:03_

i’ll take that as a rain check on

the shopping, then? ;)

 

Dim, 26 Jan, _10:47_

how’s that jacket treating you?

Dim, 26 Jan, _19:28_

lucas?

 

Mar, 28 Jan, _01:38_

it was nice to see you again today

 

Jeu, 30 Jan, _14:39_

i didn’t see you today. i hope

you’re alright?

 

Sam, 01 Fév, _21:26_

i finish work soon. would you mind

if i walk with you to alex’s?

Sam, 01 Fév, _21:37_

have you blocked my number or

something? ahaha

 

Dim, 02 Fév, _01:22_

i can hear you crying, are you

alright?

Dim, 02 Fév, _01:24_

so you have blocked me, _en fait_?

 

Mer, 05 Fév, _14:36_

i’m sorry if i’ve upset you. can

we talk?

Mer, 05 Fév, _17:37_

fucking hell, lucas, you’re confusing

 

**MARDI 07h47**

 

The messages don’t hurt any less the hundredth than they did the first time Lucas had read them through. He’s been staring at the words - solitary and unanswered, a constant reminder of something else he’s royally fucked up - since he unblocked Eliott’s number the other night. As he sits on his bed, legs pulled up under him, and half dressed for school, Lucas lets his fingers hover - motionless - over the keyboard.

 

When his phone _pings_ in his hand, his heart sinks and he jumps almost out of his skin. He can’t decide if he’s relieved or disappointed when he sees that it’s just Manon asking if he’s going to school today.

 

**To: Manon**

_07:48_

_ouais_ , i’ll be out in a second

 

Lucas pulls on a shirt and shoves his feet into his old, beat-up Nike’s, before grabbing his backpack and heading toward the main door. He pauses, catching sight of the trees swaying in the strong winds that seem to have picked up outside. With a deep sigh, Lucas turns back to his room and searches for his worn, blue bomber. He checks under blankets and clothes, which have been discarded on the floor, letting out a frustrated groan when it’s nowhere to be seen and his room has become even more of a mess than it already was.

 

In a fit of frustration, Lucas tosses his duvet to the floor and freezes, eyes glued to the bed, where the brown, canvas jacket lay. It’s wrinkled from Lucas sleeping with it tucked around him for the last two nights, but he finds himself picking it up and tugging it around his body. As he goes to zip it, he feels something crinkle between the lining of the right breast panel and falters.

 

Dipping his fingers into a hidden tear in the fabric he hadn’t even noticed before now, Lucas pulls out a folded, pale yellow post-it, and gingerly opens it.

 

At first, he thinks it’s just the same drawing he’d found that night in the park but, upon further inspection, Lucas realizes that it is so much more than that.

 

There’s words, scrawled in handwriting that can only be described as deliberate - careful curves and lines that make up each character - and a raccoon, standing in the foreground, next to a crooked brick wall, with his paws hanging at his sides in defeat. He’s not looking ahead, but more off to the side where a different  animal stands, on the opposite side of the wall with it’s back to him. Lucas can’t quite make out what it is as its form is wrapped up in a jacket that looks oddly similar to the one he’d found this paper in.

 

_“In another universe, I wouldn’t have let you shut me out.”_

 

Lucas can feel the way his stomach drops, but he doesn’t have time to dwell on it because Manon begins knocking on the colloc door.

 

Shoving his phone and the note into his backpack, Lucas rushes out of the apartment before he can have time to think too much. 

 

**MARDI 13h05**

 

Lucas sits on the foyer couch, arm idly resting over his bag next to him as he gazes off into space. Just when he tilts his head, his eyes settle - unfocused - on that hideous mural that he swears should just be painted over white, if no one is going to improve it. No one else is here so Lucas takes a moment to bask in blissful silence and the sunlight warming the room around him.

 

His phone buzzes in his bag and he goes to check it when his hand brushes against the post-it. It makes him blush, but he unfolds it so that he can look at the drawing again. He can’t decide if his heart flutters or sinks, but it affects him nonetheless.

 

As his eyes scan over the pen strokes for the first time since this morning, Lucas begins to decipher that the raccoon is Eliott - well, he could assume that before but it’s obvious now - and whatever the other animal is, that is meant to be Lucas. There’s what appears to be little quills sticking up from the collar of the coat, but Lucas is still stumped. What does Eliott see, when he looks at him?

 

The door to the common room creaks open and Lucas shoves the post-it away before grabbing his phone to look like he’s busy.

 

Whoever walks in takes a seat near the windows all the way across the room and Lucas glances up, doing a double take when he spots Eliott sitting with his feet pulled up on the windowsill and a sketchbook balanced in his lap. Lucas shouldn’t be as thrown off as he is by the sight of Eliott, but he can’t shake the feeling of unrest.

 

It doesn’t appear that the taller boy has noticed Lucas yet, but the smaller can’t find the strength to try and alert Eliott of his presence, much less to try and do it in a way that wouldn’t seem creepy. He’s almost certain Eliott slipped that drawing in the jacket on Sunday, just before Lucas left the boy’s apartment, but the last message he received from him had been the following Wednesday evening. It had been obvious that Eliott didn’t take too kindly to being ignored. So Lucas lets the silence linger.

 

The room is empty save for the two of them, and Lucas has to force himself to look down at his phone instead of at the boy across the room. He swipes his screen to try and distract himself from the magnetic feeling drawing his gaze toward Eliott.

 

_ChatBitte_

 

**From: Yann**

_13:05_

i’m headed to the common room

after Lefebre’s boring tutoring.

anyone there yet?

 

_13:07_

yeah, i’m on the couch waiting

for everyone.

 

Lucas hesitates before quickly adding a second response.

 

_13:07_

eliott is here too.

 

The boy in question shifts in his spot on the windowsill, pencil scratching against the paper before him. A nagging thought in the back of Lucas’ brain wonders what he’s drawing, but another part of him wonders what he’s thinking - what he thinks of Lucas, now.

 

_ChatBitte_

 

**From: Yann**

_13:10_

shit, Lefebre just caught me

on my phone. i’ll meet you

and eliott after she’s finished

lecturing me.

 

Well, it seems he’s got time to kill now so Lucas makes an attempt at skimming his French Literature textbook. The effort falls flat when all he can focus on is Eliott, who is fully engrossed in whatever he’s drawing, backlit by the bright sun rays penetrating the one-way glass behind him.

 

It was shitty, what Lucas did, and he recognizes that it was shitty - leading Eliott on to think the shorter was ready for something he knew he wasn’t. Yet the taller boy had still offered him shelter when he’d backed himself into a dark corner. Lucas didn’t deserve that kind of compassion, and Eliott sure as fuck hadn’t been obligated to give him anything. The guilt that’s been settled around him continues to eat away as these thoughts compile, looming aggressively in Lucas’ brain.

 

He doesn’t realize he’s staring at Eliott until the boy looks up and their eyes meet across the room. Lucas freezes, unable to say anything or even look away.

 

It’s silent - still, in the bright midday light streaming in from the wall of windows. All Lucas can hear his heart beating in his ears, pounding away and making his chest hurt with how badly he just wants to _say something_.

 

“Have I got something on my face?” Eliott jokes, trying to laugh as he brushes at his right cheek. Lucas can see the force behind it - the way Eliott starts looking anywhere but at him - and it makes him break, just a little bit more.

 

Lucas gives a startled laugh - well less of a laugh and more of a bunch of air out of his nose - and shakes himself from his daze. “Sorry,” he says, pulling his feet up to plant on the edge of the couch. He’d kicked his sneakers off when he’d arrived and decided he may as well make himself comfortable, seeing as Yann won’t be arriving as soon as he’d expected. “No, no. Your face is perfect,” he adds, immediately mentally slapping himself. “Ah -”

 

“I know what you meant,” Eliott clarifies, going back to his drawing. The air is filled with just the scratching of his pencil, and Lucas has never wished he could _not_ be alone with a cute boy in the common room so badly in his life. He can feel the anxiety bubbling up in him, so he slips his textbook back in his bag and gets up to join Eliott at the windows.

 

“What are you drawing?” Lucas asks, leaning against the foosball table. He glances down at the paper and briefly sees the level of intricacy going into it. “It looks complicated.”

 

Eliott shuts the sketch book before Lucas can decipher what it is he’s drawing, and looks Lucas in the eyes once more. “Lucas, what do you want?”

 

Lucas goes slightly pink. “I wanted to say thank you. For taking care of me the other night, I mean,” he rushes out. “You didn’t have to - you had every reason not to, in fact - but you did and… and I’m grateful for that.”

 

“I wasn’t going to leave you on the street after you’d just had a panic attack,” Eliott says like taking someone, who - more or less - lead you on back to your apartment is the obvious thing to do in that situation. “Plus, I had no idea where you lived.”

 

“You could have easily called any of the others to ask where my apartment is,” Lucas points out. “They’ve all been there at least once.”

 

“They were all a bit occupied when we left, don’t you think?” Eliott deadpans. “Besides, I was a bit drunk as well. I wasn’t thinking as clearly as I normally would.”

 

“Oh,” Lucas deflates slightly because of _course_ Eliott wouldn’t have taken him in if he’d been sober enough to stop himself. That somewhat explains his behavior the next day too.

 

Eliott’s quiet for a long time before he speaks again. “I should really finish this sketch for class…” He trails off.

 

Lucas nods. “Right,” he says. “Sorry, I’ll let you get back to that.”

 

Eliott nods and flips open his sketchbook again. As Lucas turns to walk back to the couch he stops himself and faces Eliott once more before he can think twice.

 

“Yann and the boys are on their way,” he rushes out, making the taller boy’s gaze jump to him. “I think the girls will be here soon, too. We were all going to hang out. You should join us.”

 

Eliott blinks a few times, expression blank, before morphing into something close to surprise. “Uh - Sure. Yeah, okay.”

 

Lucas smiles softly, before heading back to the couch and burying his face in his Literature book, so Eliott can’t see the blush on his face.

 

**MARDI 13h49**

 

The whole gang has finally gathered - Basile and Daphné arriving nearly thirty minutes after everyone else, looking disheveled, and Lucas doesn’t even want to consider _why_. Now they’ve fully taken over the common room, the girls all squeezing onto the little couch, and the boys spread out on the tables and windowsills. Eliott, unsurprisingly, hasn’t moved from his spot, barely batting an eye when the others had arrived. Somehow, Lucas has ended up on the far side of the same window ledge as him. The shorter boy is almost certain Yann had something to do with it, but he’ll let it slide, for now.

 

If Lucas is being completely honest, he’s glad to be sitting next to Eliott - even if it seems that the artist is still a bit angry with him. The fact that Eliott still bothered to speak with him is a positive in Lucas’ eyes. He can’t say why, exactly, but he wants to make this right. Maybe it’s him making up for the fact that he’s too much of a coward to sort things out with his mother, or because he still feels his father’s words cutting deep into him. It could also be because his father doesn’t want him. He doesn’t know. It doesn’t matter. He’ll make this right, nonetheless, and properly apologize. If nothing else, Eliott deserves that much - that’s all Lucas can offer.

 

There’s a conversation happening, spread out among the whole common area, but Lucas isn’t listening. By the looks of it, neither is Eliott. When his curiosity becomes too much, the shorter boy leans over and peers down at the sketchpad. Where he struggled to decipher it earlier, he now takes in every detail - every pencil stroke - and it makes his heart flutter, watching Eliott draw it.

 

It’s the profile of a girl with semi-short hair, staring off to the right side of the paper. It’s big nearly lifesize, and the level of detail Eliott has added is making his head spin. There’s small wrinkles and divots in the girl’s skin that Lucas isn’t sure just anyone who was passing by would notice, at first glance, and the way the corner of her mouth is turned up - only slightly, so as to suggest the bare beginnings of a smile - seems as though it was done from a memory. Eliott has to know this girl, there’s no other explanation for the level of time, care, and detail he’s put into this.

 

“Who’s that?” Lucas finds himself asking, ignoring the rest of his friends’ conversation. Something about some party this Friday, Lucas doesn’t really care.

 

Eliott tries to hold back a smirk, which makes Lucas’ stomach twist a little.

 

“She’s a friend of mine.” Eliott says in a voice that Lucas can’t quite place. It’s got weight to it, but it sounds teasing all the same.

 

“Yeah, but who is she?” Lucas can’t keep himself from pressing on, sliding just that much closer to Eliott when he does.

 

Eliott finally lifts his gaze to look at Lucas and leans his elbows on his knees, which are bent up on the windowsill so he can cross his legs. “Why? Are you jealous?”

 

Suddenly Lucas blushes and begins to stammer for the right words to say. “I - No, I -”

 

“I’m kidding Lucas,” Eliott laughs, going back to his sketchbook. “Lucille is just a friend. She could even be my sister, I’ve known her for so long.”

 

Lucas doesn’t think about the way the tension leaves his shoulders when Eliott says that. He doesn’t.

 

“- And you all have to come on Friday, or else.” Daphné is saying, prattling on about something she’s planned. The thought makes Lucas groan internally. The last thing he wants to do is go to another _party_. The last one hadn’t exactly worked out well for him.

 

“Does it have to be _this_ Friday?” Lucas asks, leaning back against the glass.

 

“ _Yes_ , it does!” Daphné says, as though it should be obvious. “It’s _Valentine’s Day_! We should all get together and have a party before having a nice, romantic weekend with our significant others!”

 

Lucas doesn’t suppress the rolling of his eyes at that. He can see Eliott holding back a chuckle and feels a sense of accomplishment well up in him. Which is weird. He ignores it. “You mean before _you_ all have romantic weekends. It’s gonna be me and Netflix till the end of time.”

 

“Then use it as an excuse to get wasted and eat chocolate,” Emma suggests. “It’s also a great opportunity for that.”

 

“Come on man, don’t be so negative,” Basile says. “It’s just a party.”

 

“And we want you there.” Yann adds, as if that was a concern. Lucas appreciates him trying to make him feel wanted, but sometimes it feels like he’s laying it on just a little too thick.

 

“And you probably won’t be the only single person there, I’m sure!” Daphné presses, hauling up on her knees against the couch cushions. “Maybe you’ll find someone to spend the weekend with.”

 

Lucas sighs. “Daphy, no offense, but you meddling in my private life isn’t something I really desire to deal with right now.”

 

Daphné huffs. “You’re coming,” She says with finality. “You too, Eliott.”

 

The taller boy, who’d been snickering to himself in the corner of the window, pauses and clears his throat. “Actually, I don’t really -”

 

“Ah!” Daphné cuts him off. “It’s settled. We’re having a party at Bas’ on Friday, and we’re all going to be there. No ‘ifs,’ ‘ands,’ or ‘buts’ about it,” She points a finger toward the two boys on the windowsill. “And I’ll be very disappointed if you aren’t there.”

 

Lucas groans while Eliott shrinks back into his sketchbook, avoiding any and all conversation after that.

 

Once Daphné and the others have been distracted by another topic - one that _doesn’t_ revolve around the idea of a commercialized scheme to sell overpriced chocolate to young couples on a random day in February - Lucas slumps in his seat and pulls his feet to rest on the edge of the sill.

 

“She’s always this pushy?” Eliott asks under his breath, making Lucas give a surprised snort.

 

“All the time,” he answers, “but she’s fun.”

 

“Oh, yeah,” Eliott chuckles, “lots of fun.”

 

**MERCREDI 14h36**

 

The shops are quiet today, unsurprisingly, as it is only a Wednesday afternoon. The boys have found refuge under a large umbrella, connected to a wrought iron table. The sun is indecisive in whether it wants to shine or hide behind the clouds that come rolling into view every so often, but the birds are fluttering and chirping, nonetheless. It’s breezy and a bit chilly, but an otherwise beautiful day for the middle of February.

 

Again, they’re right outside the café that Eliott works at, and all Lucas can do is think of whether or not he’s there. He hadn’t been in school again today, and he didn’t respond to any of the group messages Yann or the boys sent. Lucas isn’t sure how he knew, but he figured it best to not send Eliott a private message. Something in the back of his mind just told him not to push him.

 

Now though, he’s staring up at that balcony, wondering where the boy is. Whether he’s wearing that floury apron or that tattered black sweatshirt he usually has on at school. He supposes he should stop staring off into space but for once he doesn’t place a mental block on all thoughts ‘Eliott,’ and it’s suddenly like a floodgate has opened. There’s one right after the next, memories and fantasies alike, that center around that tall boy with messy brown hair and bright blue eyes. Lucas feels an odd fluttering in his chest when the balcony door opens, but it’s just a patron, holding a cigarette between her right fingers and her hair between her left.

 

“Hey Lucas, can you bring beers on Friday?” Basile asks, bringing the hammer down through Lucas’ thoughts. 

 

The shorter boy blinks from his daze and focuses on the curly haired boy across from him. “What? Dude, it’s your house, why can’t you get them?”

 

“Because it’s _my house_ ,” Basile says. “Can’t you just get them? Besides, it’s your turn, anyway.”

 

“No, it’s not,” Lucas says, indignantly. “I paid last time, at the park.”

 

“No,” Arthur cuts in, “ _I_ paid at the park, Bas paid at the foyer party, and Yann paid at Alexia’s. So who pays now…?”

 

“ _C’est Lulu_!” Yann says, kicking at Lucas’ feet under the table.

 

Lucas rolls his eyes and drags his feet away. “ _Arrête_ . Fine, I’ll pay,” he says, turning his gaze back toward the balcony, deeming it unworthy of mentioning that he wasn’t even _at_ the foyer party. The woman on the balcony has already disappeared back inside, leaving the door slightly ajar. Lucas isn’t sure what he’s waiting for, but he feels the tension build every time someone walks past from within.

 

“Yo, Yann, you gonna hang with Emma this weekend?” Arthur asks, tone suggestive. Lucas wants to roll his eyes, but he’s honestly getting a headache from how often he does that already, so he refrains.

 

“I dunno man,” Yann sighs. “I want to. She suggested we watch movies on Saturday, but I don’t want her to feel forced into anything.”

 

“Bro, she’s so into you,” Basile says, unhelpfully. “Sure, you guys dated before, but what are you getting so worked up about? You said it wasn’t that bad.”

 

Lucas supposes Bas and Arthur aren’t really aware of the context behind Yann and Emma’s past. It’s not something he’s proud of, that he let his jealousy ruin his best friends’ relationship. The air is clear now, but it still makes Lucas shift uncomfortably in his seat and cast his eyes down to the table top. He can see Yann’s gaze fall on him out of the corner of his eye, and reaches up to scratch at the back of his neck as he looks back over at the café.

 

“It wasn’t bad,” Yann confirms. “We both agreed that it was what we needed. I guess I always knew we’d end up back together, but now that it’s happening I’m getting… anxious? I don’t know.”

 

“If you’re that worried about it, just talk to her,” Lucas says, as though that’s the obvious option. He glances over and sees the three of them staring at him, brows furrowed and mouths downturned. He looks between them and raises his own eyebrow. “What?”

 

The boys remain silent, looking away. They tend to do this when Lucas gives any sort of relationship advice. He supposes it’s justified, since he hasn’t really _been_ in a relationship - much less one with a girl. He could see why they’d be skeptical of his suggestions. Although, he _is_ usually right.

 

Lucas huffs. “Boys, honestly, playing ‘will they, won’t they’ is just as frustrating for your significant others as it is for you,” he says, crossing his arms. “Trust me, I’ve spent enough time listening to their complaints to know that you all have a lot of the same fears. Pussyfooting around the conversation is going to do neither of you any good.”

 

Yann sighs - he knows Lucas is right, the shorter boy can tell by the look on his face - and shoves his face in his palms. “Why is romance so fucking difficult?”

 

“Oh, come on, it’s not that hard,” Someone says from off to their left. Lucas can feel his chest seize and his eyes bulge, briefly, before he’s saved by Arthur.

 

“Eliott! What are you doing here?” The blond boy asks, standing up and greeting Eliott with a clap on the shoulder, leading the taller boy to the empty seat at their table.

 

“I was at work,” he says, giving Lucas a subtle, knowing look. “I just got out, though. I figured I’d come say hello, but it seems I’ve stumbled in on a much more interesting conversation.”

 

“Yann is nervous about getting back together with Emma,” Basile says, because he can’t keep his mouth shut, _ever_. Yann doesn’t seem to mind it, though.

 

“I’m just worried she’ll get overwhelmed,” he says, shrugging. “I don’t want her to feel like she has to get back together with me.”

 

Eliott seems pensive for a moment, doing this thing where he leans his chin in his palm and stares off into space. Lucas tries not to find it adorable, but he just _can’t help it_.

 

“She’s expressed her interest?” Eliott asks.

 

“Well, yeah, but -”

 

“And you’ve been hanging out with her?”

 

“Yes, but she hasn’t said anything about, like, _officially_ getting back together.” Yann huffs.

 

“She wants to hang out with him this weekend,” Arthur cuts in. “For Valentine’s Day.”

 

Eliott can’t help but chuckle at Arthur’s suggestive look. “Well, my advice would be to sit down and talk with her. This seems like the kind of situation where hints aren’t really enough.”

 

“Ugh,” Yann sighs, “that conversation would be terribly awkward.”

 

“Is she worth it?” Eliott asks, giving Yann pause.

 

“ _Ouais_ ,” he says after a beat. “Yeah, she is.”

 

“Then I don’t see the issue.” Eliott smiles, brightly.

 

“You’re good at this,” Basile says, then - because he has no self control - follows up. “Are you in a relationship?”

 

Eliott chuckles. “No, but I have been,” he says. “Romance is… kinda my specialty. Or, so I’ve been told.”

 

“ _Ah ouais_?” Lucas has to laugh. He has to, or he’ll realize how jealous he is. “That’s quite a bold claim.”

 

Eliott raises a brow at him, but Yann just clicks his tongue. 

 

“Ignore him,” The boy says. “He doesn’t believe in love.”

 

Both of Eliott’s eyebrows shoot up at this. “What? How can you not _believe_ in love?” He asks, incredulously. “Love is… Love is, like, everywhere. All the time.”

 

Lucas rolls his eyes. “Eliott, I assure you, I believe in love, these morons are exaggerating. I just don’t believe in monogamy.”

 

Eliott thinks about that. “I guess that makes more sense. Even though I don’t necessarily agree.” He winks at the shorter boy, making him blush down to his neck.

 

“For someone who doesn’t believe in monogamy, you sure do get jealous of all of us being in relationships all the time.” Basile says, and Lucas wishes he could attach a brain-to-mouth filter to that boy.

 

Apparently, so does Arthur, because the blond thumps the curly haired boy on the back of the bead. “ _Mec_ , shut up.”

 

Lucas gives Basile a dry look. “I’m only annoyed when you all ditch me for your girlfriends,” he says, irritatedly. “I’m the only single one in this group.”

 

“Well, good thing I came along, huh?” Eliott says, laughing. Lucas wants to punch him and kiss him all at once. Either one would certainly wipe that smug look off of his angel face.

 

“Oh yeah, good thing,” Lucas says, sarcastically. “An L student who goes around telling people that romance is his ‘specialty.’”

 

“Oh, please,” Eliott says, nudging his foot under the table, “you love it.”

 

Lucas blushes, but doesn’t move his foot away.

 

**JEUDI 17h56**

 

_Le Gang_

 

**From: Arthur**

_17:56_

lulu, you still good to get the

beers for tomorrow night?

_17:56_

bc i don’t mind paying for

them if you need me to.

 

_17:58_

no, i’ll get them, it’s ok

 

**Yann**

_18:00_

i think i actually have some

leftover at mine, if we just

want those

 

**Basile**

_18:01_

yeah, i think so too! i can

check when i finish dinner.

 

_18:03_

guys, really, i can get some.

 

**The Artist**

_18:10_

1 Attachment Image

_18:10_

i have this whole case at mine

 

**Basile**

_18:11_

broooo that’s perfect!

 

**Arthur**

_18:13_

eliott, you legend

 

**Yann**

_18:16_

are you gonna need help?

those look really heavy to

be carrying on public transit

lmao

 

_18:16_

i can help. we can walk

together.

 

**The Artist**

_18:20_

ok :)

 

**VENDREDI 16h37**

 

It’s odd, Lucas decides, the way he and Eliott have just mutually agreed to be friends. He thinks it just comes from the fact that the guys and the girls seem to have absorbed Eliott so effortlessly into their group, but it doesn’t really matter. Every time the taller boy smiles, laughs, or even just _speaks_ , with Lucas, he can’t help but feel just the smallest bit of relief. Even if he still has that annoying sense of guilt nagging at his insides.

 

As much as Lucas wants to deny any kind of attraction to the boy, he still never intended to hurt him. Despite that worry being, more or less, put to rest by Eliott’s lack of spite toward him, Lucas still can’t shake that sinking feeling he gets whenever he thinks about it. It’s like last year, when he told Yann about his crush on him, and what that had ultimately led to. No matter how often his best friend told him he wasn’t angry, Lucas couldn’t bring himself to meet his eye for weeks afterward.

 

The sidewalk leading to Eliott’s apartment building is vaguely familiar. Of course, Lucas had asked for the exact address, since he couldn’t fully remember where it was. As Lucas’ legs carry him across the pavement, the sun is beginning to move toward the horizon. Its light fading away, much like Lucas’ confidence. When he’d sent that text about walking together, he isn’t sure he fully thought it through. Something visceral inside him just… moved his fingers for him. It was ridiculous, really, he should have just let Eliott carry the damned beers by himself.

 

 _But where would be the fun in that?_ His brain provides, unhelpfully. He huffs and makes his way up the stairs to the main doors, taking two at a time. When he rings the bell, the buzzer makes him jump a bit, and he has to force himself to calm down. Being jittery will help no one. He shouldn’t even _be_ jittery, in the first place.

 

“ _Ouais_?” Eliott’s garbled voice comes through the speaker.

 

“It’s me,” Lucas says. “Are you ready to go?”

 

“Ah, yeah! I’ll buzz you in. I just need to find my shoes.” Eliott says right before the buzzer goes off again, making Lucas flinch.

 

On his way up the stairs, Lucas subconsciously shoves his hands in the pockets of his jacket, burrowing as deeply as he can, hiding as much of himself as possible. Honestly, he’d contemplated whether or not he should even wear it. It was the start of this - whatever it is - uprooting his world and turning everything he thought he believed in and stood by onto its head. But for some godforsaken reason, Lucas just couldn’t bear to leave it home tonight. Call it a power move, call it weakness - either way, he felt simultaneously safe and stupid for bringing it. Maybe he should have left it home. Whatever, Lucas will just keep telling himself that he needs it - that it’s too cold for a sweatshirt, anyway.

 

He knocks on the apartment door and plasters a small smile on his face, feeling his stomach turn as the lock clicks open and Eliott - beaming and bouncing - greets him.

 

“Hey,” he says, stepping aside to let Lucas in. “You can just hang here while I grab my shoes. The beers are in the fridge, if you wanna take them out.” The taller boy informs him, as he deposits Lucas near the kitchen and goes back toward his bedroom. The residual giddy energy makes Lucas let out a small chuckle. He’s never been around a person who can be so lively and enthusiastic about just the _smallest_ of things. At least, not someone over the age of ten. It’s endearing.

 

The apartment is the same as he remembers - mostly neat, save for a few dishes in the sink, and brightly lit, even with the sun setting beyond the balcony windowpane. Maybe his mind is exaggerating, but he swears it feels way warmer here than it did that morning when he woke up after the party. Not physically, of course, but hypothetically. It feels like… well, it feels like a home.

 

“Ready?” Eliott’s voice comes from the hall, and Lucas spins on his heel to meet his eyes. The taller boy has on a black v-neck with light wash, ripped skinny jeans and a backpack on his back. Lucas is ashamed that he has to stop himself from staring. Really, it’s normal attire for a party. Instead, he looks back up into Eliott’s soft eyes and nods.

 

“Ready,” he confirms, smile still on his face. It’s genuine, at first, until he realizes that they have to actually go to this dumb Valentine’s party. “I guess.”

 

Eliott chuckles and goes over to the fridge, removing the case of beer and placing it on the counter. He tugs the backpack from his shoulders to split them up, six in the backpack and six in a sling bag he’d taken from inside the first bag. 

 

“You guess?” He asks, zipping and pulling the bags closed. “Valentine’s Day really isn’t your thing, huh?” The bottles clink around, but settle easily once the backpack is secured on Eliott’s shoulders.

 

“What, like it’s yours?” Lucas laughs, taking the sling bag and putting it on his back. “It’s just another ploy for corporations to make money.”

 

“Maybe so,” Eliott shrugs, giving Lucas a half-lidded grin, “but it is oh-so romantic.”

 

“Ah, yes, I forgot who I was dealing with,” Lucas rolls his eyes, following the taller boy toward the door. “Mr. Romantic.”

 

“You have quite a few nicknames for me, _le petit_.” Eliott laughs. Lucas’ heart practically beats out of his chest at the name.

 

“Don’t call me that.” He laughs, albeit it sounds forced. He’s even trying to quell the heat in his cheeks as he says it.

 

“Why not?” Eliott teases. “You can call me Mr. Artist and Mr. Romantic, but I can’t give you a cute nickname? That hardly seems fair.”

 

“What’s wrong with just ‘Lucas’?” Lucas asks, looking up at Eliott.

 

Eliott doesn’t look back at him, just smirks and chuckles. “How boring.”

 

Lucas looks away, biting his lip. “My name is boring? You’re not very good at complimenting me.”

 

“Who said I was trying to compliment you?” Eliott says, finally turning his gaze back to Lucas, who just giggles and shakes his head.

 

“Asshole,” he says.

 

“Actually, I believe your line is ‘touchè,’ but I’ll let it slide.” Eliott says, waving his hand.

 

Lucas laughs, but it dies down after a moment. The silence settles and Lucas can’t help but think, what had he done to deserve Eliott’s forgiveness, confusing as it may be? He chalks it up to Eliott just being too nice for his own good, and a whole new guilt settles over him. One that sits in the pit of his stomach and screams about how he’s taking advantage of Eliott’s soft exterior. He knows it’s not really true but God, it hurts.

 

“If you really don’t like _le petit_ that much, I suppose I could figure out a different nickname for you,” Eliott says, pensively. “But that would take some time. Why don’t you just tell me what you want it to be?”

 

Lucas just nudges the taller boy’s arm, laughing a bit. “Now where would be the fun in that?”

 

**VENDREDI 19h45**

 

The party is fully chaotic nearly three hours in, and Lucas is still nursing his third beer while everyone else is well over the edge of having a massive hangover tomorrow. There’s more people than he’d anticipated - the girls and boys, obviously, but also a bunch of underclassmen and more people he doesn’t recognize. He does recognize Sofiane from Imane’s Instagram and says hello to him in passing. Idriss is here too, who he’d last seen talking to Eliott somewhere near the kitchen. There’s also that guy that Daphné refers to as ‘cake boy’, and his friends. He sees Chloé and Maria, a couple of girls who frequent the foyer, and nods a greeting to them. Other than that, Lucas finds himself pretty alone.

 

Basile had disappeared with Daphné way too early for it to not be suspicious, but they didn’t seem to care. Arthur is dancing with Alexia and Imane, trying to coax Sofiane into joining them. Yann had been right next to Lucas until about ten minutes ago when he suddenly mumbled a quick ‘later, bro,’ and headed off somewhere with Emma. Lucas can’t say he’s mad. It’s a party, it’s Valentine’s Day, everyone’s drunk and stoned out of their minds. This was bound to be the outcome.

 

Upon wandering into the kitchen, Lucas finds the back door and slips outside onto the back lawn of the home. There’s crickets chirping and the wind is blowing, but it’s otherwise peaceful. He looks down at his beer and sighs, placing it on the railing of the stairs before descending them to the grass below, zipping his jacket against the cold as he goes.

 

“You get ditched too?” Eliott asks from where he’s sitting on the grass, rolled joint stuck between his lips.

 

Lucas idly turns to look at him and shrugs, plopping himself down next to the taller boy. “Can’t say I didn’t expect it,” he says, reaching over and plucking the joint from Eliott’s mouth to take a hit himself. “Still fucking annoying, though.”

 

Eliott watches the smoke flow from between Lucas’ lips and takes the weed back. “Yeah, it is.”

 

“Where’d Idriss go?” Lucas asks as he watches Eliott take a drag.

 

“Said he wasn’t feeling well,” Eliott says, blowing the smoke up into the cold atmosphere. “But I think he just wanted to go bar hopping and not feel bad about leaving. He promised Imane he’d stay.”

 

Lucas laughs. “I’m sure she’ll understand,” he says.

 

It gets quiet after that, the sounds of the party muffled by the closed doors of the house.

 

“I see Yann took our advice,” Eliott says after a few minutes. “Saw him sneak out with Emma a few minutes ago.”

 

Lucas nods. “Yeah, thank God. I’m not sure I’d have been able to stand much more of their uncertainty. They’re meant for each other, really.”

 

Eliott chuckles, taking another long drag before offering the roach to Lucas, who takes it and finishes it off.

 

“You know,” Eliott says, not looking over at the shorter boy as he leans back on his palms, “for a boy who doesn’t believe in monogamy, you sure do contradict yourself quite a lot.”

 

“What do you mean?” Lucas asks, staring at the sky, where the clouds have started to roll in and partially block the moonlight.

 

“You’re pretty adamant on making sure your friends’ monogamous relationships go well,” Eliott says. “Seems a bit counteractive.”

 

“Just because I don’t want that doesn’t mean they shouldn’t have it.” Lucas points out, matter-of-factly.

 

“True,” Eliott concedes, “but if you truly didn’t believe in it, why would you be helping them achieve it? If you think it’s going to end badly, why bother at all?”

 

Lucas pauses at that, Eliott’s tone making his stomach drop. He’s never really considered _why_ he doesn’t believe in it, only that he doesn’t. He’s never thought too deeply about it, but now that someone has said it out loud, he can’t ignore it.

 

“I just don’t believe in it for myself.” Lucas says, after a long pause. That’s sort of true, he doesn’t think he could ever trust someone like that, much less for his whole life.

 

“Ah, so you’re afraid of commitment?” Eliott asks, lowering himself onto his back and staring up at the hazy sky.

 

“What exactly are you trying to get out of me?” Lucas grumbles, laying on his back next to Eliott.

 

“Nothing,” Eliott says flatly. “I was just curious.”

 

Lucas panics, fear welling up in his chest that all of Eliott’s niceties have been out of sheer politeness - which may well be the case, but he doesn’t want to think about that. So he does what he does best in a situation like this, and changes the subject. 

 

“I got your drawing.” It’s the first thing he thinks of and, honestly, he might as well have just thrown himself from Bas’ roof.

 

“ _Ah_ , _ouais_?” Eliott asks, sounding detached. “And what did you think?”

 

“I was a bit confused, actually,” Lucas says, trying to sound as collected as possible. “By more than just the drawing, if I’m honest.” He knows it’s the weed talking for the two of them, but something is telling him that this is the conversation they need to have right now. God knows they wouldn’t say this shit sober - at least, Lucas wouldn’t.

 

“Were you, now?” Eliott asks, slight lilt to his voice. “Maybe I can clear a few things up for you, then.”

 

Lucas crosses his hands on his chest and tries to sort his thoughts in his pot-clouded brain.

 

“Last weekend, firstly,” Lucas says. “You got really cold and distant the morning after the party. I didn’t… I wasn’t sure how to react.”

 

Eliott stays silent, and Lucas can sense that he begins to become more and more uneasy. If the shorter boy is honest, it puts his own mind at ease to know Eliott is struggling to find the right words, too.

 

The sounds of the night overtake the darkness before the artist breathes deeply through his nose, and speaks. “I thought…” He trails off, shifting against the grass, uncomfortably. “I thought, if I kicked you out, it’d be easier to forget about you.”

 

Oh.

 

Lucas isn’t sure what he’d expected, he really isn’t. He should be surprised when Eliott says it, he really shouldn’t.

 

But he is.

 

Hearing makes it real, and Lucas can feel himself clamming up. He tries not to, he does, but he can feel the way his stomach starts to churn and his limbs get heavy. Maybe it’s the weed, but he doubts it.

 

“But you still left the drawing,” he forces out, despite himself. “Why did you do that if you were trying to forget me?”

 

He feels Eliott shrug next to him. “Call it a last-ditch effort,” The taller boy says, softly, as a rumble of thunder rolls in the distance. “I _needed_ to forget, but I didn’t _want_ to. I didn’t want to let you get away so easily.”

 

Lucas blushes, finally leaning up on his elbow and looking down at the other boy. Eliott doesn’t meet his gaze, simply staring past Lucas, toward the sky.

 

“What do you want, Eliott?” Lucas asks. “You should take your own advice and do what makes you happy.”

 

Eliott laughs, smiling so wide that his eyes crinkle around the edges. Lucas’ heart stutters.

 

“You’re confusing.” Eliott mumbles as he finally meets Lucas’ eyes, smile never disappearing.

 

“So you’ve told me,” Lucas smirks, letting himself drift a little closer to the boy beneath him. “I think you secretly love it.”

 

Eliott tilts his head and quirks a playful brow. “I didn’t think I was being secretive.”

 

Lucas nearly surges down and kisses that sly look right off of Eliott’s face, when a reflection on the fence across the yard catches his eyes.

 

“Fuck, I think the cops are here.” He whispers just before Basile yells from inside.

 

“Everyone, shut the fuck up or get the fuck out! The cops are here!”

 

“He’s not very subtle, is he?” Eliott asks as Lucas moves away. The two stand and get their backs against the siding of the house.

 

“Not in the slightest,” Lucas confirms trying to glance around the corner he’s pressed against. When he hears footsteps, he panics and reaches out to shove Eliott in the other direction. “Eliott, we need to -”

 

Before he can finish, the taller boy is grabbing him by the arm and bolting around the other side of the structure, dragging a confused - but willing - Lucas close behind.

 

When they reach the fence, Eliott begins scaling it, since there is no gate on this side, and Lucas has to try and desperately haul himself over using the bins next to him.

 

“Come on!” Eliott hisses, shoving his hands under Lucas’ arms and lifting him over the fence as though he weighed nothing. Lucas isn’t sure if he’s offended or turned on - or possibly both? - as Eliott puts him down. 

 

He lands on his feet on top of some kind of metal box next to Eliott, who grabs his wrist again and starts running.

 

They get as far away as four blocks - the sounds of cops yelling inside the house becoming more and more distant, until they disappear - before they’re panting and leaning against some random brick building to catch their breaths.

 

“Christ, that was close,” Lucas pants, knocking his head back against the wall. “Good quick thinking on your part, though.”

 

“Getting arrested isn’t really on my bucket list.” Eliott says, leaning his hands on his knees to catch his breath.

 

Lucas can’t fight the laugh that leaves him as Eliott stands back up and they finally regulate their breathing. He can hear the main road bustling some blocks away, and turns to look up at Eliott, who looks back at him with an unreadable expression.

 

“Shall we start walking home, then?” Lucas offers, holding his hand out in invitation.

 

Eliott laughs and shakes his head at him. “Sure, _allé_.”

 

**VENDREDI 20h27**

 

After the two boys fled the suburban streets surrounding Basile’s house, they’d fallen into step alongside one another to make their way back toward the residential district. The clouds that had been partially covering the moon before were ominously overtaking the already darkened sky. Lucas thinks he hears the distant rumble of thunder and swallows down the sudden urge to suggest they take shelter in the café across the street. He’s never liked the rain - or thunder, for that matter - and he’s definitely never been very fond of the dark. His mother told him once that he would refuse to sleep alone during storms when he was a child. That fact still holds some truth on stormy nights when Lucas finds himself tucked up on the colloc couch, a blanket wrapped securely around himself and the TV murmuring in the background. He hates that about himself, if he’s honest, and tries to ignore that swell of anxiety he gets at any sudden flash of lightning through his window. Despite his disdain, Lucas still finds himself clenching his fists in his pockets and silently pleading that it doesn’t begin to rain. Idly, his fingers rub at the lining of the jacket.

 

“So remind me again why you hate Valentine’s Day so much?” Eliott inquires, interrupting Lucas’ thoughts as they walk up the sidewalk toward their homes. The street parallel to them is mildly busy, but not as badly as it would be during the day. They’re right near the canal, where boats with fairy lights line the docks and the water lapping against the overpass they’re walking on is the only sound they can hear.

 

“I just find it to be a ridiculous money scheme.” Lucas shrugs. “They charge out the ass for fucking chocolate and stuffed animals. The heteronormativity that comes along with it sure isn’t fun, either. And don’t even get me started on _flowers_.”

 

“What’s wrong with flowers?” Eliott asks around how much he’s laughing. “You’re so cynical.”

 

“They die in a week!” Lucas says. “Buy something that will last, like clothes or a gift card. Flowers are so stupid.”

 

“I like flowers.” Eliott shrugs. “You know, some of them have meanings.”

 

“Yeah, but you know people aren’t buying them for that,” Lucas rolls his eyes. “They’re buying them to conform to social expectations of what they _should_ do, rather than what their significant other _wants_ them to do.”

 

“Well, what would your ideal Valentine’s be, then?” Eliott teases, nudging Lucas.

 

The shorter boy blushes and shrugs the question away. “I dunno. Cheesy romantic shit makes me uneasy. Probably just, like, sex and a movie.”

 

“Sounds pretty romantic to me.” Eliott shrugs.

 

“What about you?” Lucas asks, changing the subject. “What’s _your_ ideal Valentine’s?”

 

Eliott seems to think about that, for a while. The sky is growing ever darker and the smell of rain is permeating the air, even if it hasn’t started yet. The taller boy lets out a breath before he answers.

 

“I think just doing whatever we feel like, with my significant other, would be enough,” Eliott says, before he shrugs his shoulders and smirks down at Lucas. “Sex isn’t bad, either.”

 

Lucas goes crimson. He tries to gather up his thoughts to form a sentence but, before he can, a clap of lightning distracts him.

 

“Shit, I think it’s about to start raining.” He says, instead.

 

“That jacket doesn’t have a hood.” Eliott points out as he lifts his own over his head.

 

Lucas huffs a small laugh. “Yet another reason you need help finding the proper jacket.”

 

Eliott laughs at that and winds his arm around Lucas’ waist to pull him closer. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from the rain.”

 

Lucas rolls his eyes, but makes no effort to move away. “I didn’t ask you to.”

 

“It’s a favor.” Eliott says as the droplets begin to fall around them - slowly, at first, but gradually becoming heavier and more abundant.

 

Lucas subconsciously tucks his head closer to Eliott’s chest as they walk, seeking shelter from the icy, assaulting rain. He doesn’t get much, but Eliott is solid and warm against him as they walk, fingers splayed out against the shorter boy’s waist as a constant reminder of how close they are - not that Lucas minds.

 

As the cluster of apartment buildings comes into view, the sky flashes and the resulting thunder shakes the ground on which they’re standing. Lucas’ grip locks against Eliott’s drenched clothing and he stops in his tracks.

 

“What?” Eliott asks, falling in line with him. “Are you scared of the rain, or something?”

 

“What? No, that just made me jump,” Lucas says, vehemently shaking his head. “I’m not afraid.”

 

“Sure,” The taller boy says and Lucas can see the skepticism on Eliott’s face before he breaks into a soft smile. “Come on, I think I know somewhere we can wait out the storm.” He says, tugging Lucas down a street clearly less travelled by most people.

 

It’s poorly lit, but only about three meters long before it leads out to a small intersection. Lucas can see an iron gate across the road from them and pauses before Eliott can lead them there.

 

“You’re not gonna murder me, are you?” He asks, only half joking.

 

Eliott laughs. “No, Lucas, I’d never.” He teases, leading them over to the gate and letting go of the boy - much to his dismay - in order to pick the lock open.

 

There’s a grassy path, lined with trees that drip huge droplets of water down onto Lucas’ head as they walk.

 

“I thought you said we’d get out of the rain?” The shorter boy asks, grumpily.

 

“Oh, hush,” Eliott says. “We’re almost there.”

 

“Almost _where_?” Lucas insists. He can see Eliott shake his head as they round the final corner, a large bridge coming into view. Lucas recognizes it, he thinks, but he can’t quite remember what it’s called. It doesn’t matter, though, because Eliott has already disappeared into the darkness under the overhanging cement work.

 

“ _Viens_!” The taller boy yells.

 

As Lucas opens his mouth to say something, another rumble of thunder prompts him to rush under the overpass to where Eliott is leaning against one of the cement pillars. The tall boy has a mischievous grin on his face, illuminated by the light coming from the flashlight of his phone in his hand.

 

“ _Pas peur_ , huh?” Eliott teases, leaning his head back against the structure behind him.

 

“ _Oui_ , _pas peur_ ,” Lucas says, stubbornly looking away at the sheets of precipitation that have begun to soak the woods outside of the tunnel. “It’s just rain.”

 

“Yeah,” Eliott confirms, “it is.”

 

Lucas glances back at the boy and finds him staring, a look Lucas can’t decipher donning his features. “What?”

 

“Nothing,” Eliott says, looking away. “You’re just really cute when you get scared.”

 

Lucas’ face goes bright red. “I told you, I’m not…” He trails off, the full weight of Eliott’s words crashing over him.

 

“Not what?” Eliott smirks, pushing off of the pillar and making his way over to the shorter boy. “Not scared, or not cute?”

 

Lucas doesn’t say anything. Personally, he would object to both, but he can’t quite find the words to fire back a clever quip. He finds himself gaping like a fish out of water instead. “I - I -”

 

“Because I can tell you both are true.” Eliott says, stopping just in front of Lucas with his chin tilted down toward the other boy’s face.

 

Lucas swallows, fighting the urge to tilt his head up and -

 

“How do you know?” His voice betrays him when it comes out shaky and nervous.

 

Eliott gives him a soft look, reaching one hand up to run his fingertips over Lucas’ cheek. “I can see it in your eyes.”

 

Lucas’ mouth falls open slightly as he leans in to the touch, abandoning any thoughts that scream at him to pull away. “ _Ah ouais_?” He asks in a hushed voice, barely audible above the rain. “What else can you see in them?”

 

“The ocean,” Eliott whispers, letting his fingers drift back into the short strands of hair at the back of Lucas’ neck. “And the clearest of any night sky I’ve ever seen before.”

 

Lucas feels his nose brush against the tip of Eliott’s and can’t stop the shudder it sends through his body. “What else?”

 

“I see my reflection,” Eliott says, not backing down even as the movement of his lips cause them to nearly brush against Lucas’. “I see my own eyes and how badly I want to kiss you right now.”

 

“So do it,” Lucas says, breathlessly. “Kiss me.”

 

And - _mon Dieu_ \- Eliott does, sealing their lips together in a heated kiss made wet from the rain on their skin. He kisses like their lives hang in the balance and this will be the last time they will ever have the chance to.

 

It’s messy and uncoordinated, but also perfect and Lucas never wants it to end. Even when they pull away for air - smiling and laughing like idiots - it’s only for a short moment before they’re back on each other again, throwing all those weeks of uncertainty away to live in this moment. They are finally free.

 

Lucas melts into the feelings pouring out of him, reveling in the most intense and beautiful moment he’s ever had the honor of experiencing. 

 

He never wants this to stop. He never wants to let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Bella (iwantmessedup on tumblr) for editing this, removing all my unnecessary commas and leaving commentary on my google doc! Your editing makes me smile to no end :')

**Author's Note:**

> updates to come weekly!


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